


As If

by mariuspondmercy



Series: As If [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But mostly fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy/pseuds/mariuspondmercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac had had a crush on many people before. But the one that's giving him most trouble is the crush on his best friend, Combeferre. It wouldn't be too hard to deal with weren't it for the fact that somehow he ends up in a fake relationship with his crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chrucio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrucio/gifts).



> So, this is originally a tumblr prompt and it's definitely multi chapter, I just haven't come around to finishing it. But It's valentine's day today so I figured I'd post the prologue.

Courfeyrac had kept a close eye on Combeferre all through the meeting this afternoon. He had seemed somewhat nervous, didn’t concentrate enough. It wasn’t normal for Combeferre to be so spaced out.

Spaced out.

Courfeyrac quietly chuckled at his own thought-joke, which earned him a strange look from both Enjolras and Combeferre.

He mouthed a ‘sorry’ in their general direction and concentrated on the meeting once more. Still, he couldn’t help but glance at Combeferre every now and then. It wasn’t only the fact that his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his tattoos, his muscles, the way his arms could wrap around Courfeyrac, how his hand could tug on Courfeyrac’s curls… stop. Courfeyrac shook his head lightly to banish the more than impure thoughts he sometimes had about his best friend. They were like brothers! It was nearly incest! Metaphorical incest.

Except it wasn’t, and Courfeyrac did have these feelings when he saw Combeferre. Not always, not often, but often enough to worry him a little.

Courfeyrac decided to pull himself together. The meeting was important, since they planned the counterdemonstration against next month’s Pegida demonstration. It would be interesting, really, as their group was mostly made out of people with a migration background. They hoped with having Enjolras as their leader, the people were more willing to listen to his reasoning. The meeting ended with a plan on how to arrange, how to attract more people. Feuilly was in charge of getting the local carpenters to make a small stage. Grantaire had the job to design a poster until next week, which, he swore, was really easy. Bahorel was assigned the task to rally more people for their cause. He knew so many, from work, from boxing, from other hobbies (no one really knew much about those obscure hobbies but at some point he came into the Musain dressed as a banana).

After the meeting, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, and Combeferre stayed behind to tidy up. Most of the time some of the others stayed, too, but this evening everyone was somehow very busy.

“So…” Combeferre started after a while of silently stuffing everything into his messenger bag, “you know that we have this really stupid Valentine’s Day Party at our office, right?”

Courfeyrac nodded. They had it every year, Combeferre and Enjolras always went together. It was required to bring a Plus One, no matter if it was a romantic partner or your little sister.

“Well, Enjolras is in Lyon that week.”

“Pegida is planning a demonstration in Lyon in April, so I wanted to meet with them Amis there before our counterdemonstration, so we can coordinate them better.”

“I know. Isn’t Bossuet coming with you because he’s got a cousin there?”

“Yes, exactly!” Enjolras beamed at him. “It’s gonna be a lot of fun, and I’m sure we’ll be very successful. But, point is, I won’t be there for the Valentine’s Day Party.”

“Which is why I wanted to ask if you’d come with me. It’s the day before Valentine’s Day, so any potential plans would remain untouched.” Combeferre fiddled with the buckle of his bag and closed it before he finally looked up to Courfeyrac. “What do you say?”

“Yeah, sure! I’d be happy to accompany you. Do we have to bring anything? Like, is it a BYO party?”

“Yes, a small Valentine’s gift. You can have mine, I already bought it. They are all thrown into a box. It’s a bit like Secret Santa. Secret Valentine, so to say,” Enjolras informed him while shrugging on his jacket.

“Veiled Valentine,” Courfeyrac chuckled and wrapped his scarf around himself.

“That’s really clever,” Combeferre smiled at him, “but I expected nothing less of you.”

Courfeyrac hated the warm feeling that spread through him. He hated the way his whole body tingled, hated that he wanted to stand on his tip-toes and quietly ask Combeferre to kiss him. This couldn’t be. He needed to shake off this feeling. Soon. Yes, Combeferre was gay. As gay as the moon (though the moon is clearly a lesbian, please and thank you), but Courfeyrac knew it could never be. Combeferre wasn’t the type of person to fall in love with his best friend. Courfeyrac on the other hand… he could already count an affair with Grantaire and a failed relationship with Jehan.

“You know me, I’m the clevererest of us three,” Courfeyrac grinned at Combeferre. He pushed down the feeling in his stomach, telling him to just come clear or at least talk to Enjolras about his feelings.

Talking to Enjolras was not an option. He loved his friends so dearly, he would have a lot of trouble not telling Combeferre. He’d mediate between them, sit them both down, and not leave until the air was cleared. So, really, Courfeyrac had no other choice but suffer silently until his feelings were gone. He knew himself. Back in his first year of lycée, Courfeyrac had suddenly developed a gigantic crush on Enjolras. It had lasted two months and that was it. Surely, this crush on Combeferre would be gone soon enough. Just… it wasn’t as sudden. Or as strong. It was slowly, had crept up on him for months now. But that was a truth Courfeyrac managed to ignore.

“My friends, how about me make pizza tonight and watch some more Parks And Rec?” Enjolras suggested.

“I’m down!” Courfeyrac looped his arm through Enjolras’ and kissed his cheek. “Ferre?”

“Always. Though, as much as I love Parks And Rec, we all know Enjolras’ reaction to it. He denies he’s totally Leslie but he’s so Leslie.”

“Am not,” Enjolras pouted. “If I’m Leslie, you should be Ben. Hence we should marry. But I do not intend on marrying you.”

“He’s not a bad catch,” Courfeyrac chirped, pulling the door of the Musain close behind him. “You could do worse than Combeferre. You could marry me, for example. Wouldn’t recommend that.”

Combeferre laughed. “You’re not a bad catch either. So I guess it’s homemade pizza and Parks And Rec? But I get to have the red blanket!”

“No!” Enjolras protested. “It’s the biggest, I need it, I can wrap myself in it. We could share?”

“And what am I supposed to do?” Courfeyrac complained. He pouted up at Enjolras and Combeferre but quickly looked down again. “I got rain in my eyes…”

They three were silent for a few seconds before they burst out laughing.

This, Courfeyrac thought, this is what he needed and wanted. His friends should love him like this. It was warm and happy. He didn’t need the discomfort of maybe having more than a small crush on one of them.

At least no one at the party would mistake them for boyfriends.


	2. Bring Your Own Gift, Alcohol, and Accidental Misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac swore he had his crush under control - no, really! So what the hell could possibly go wrong when you want to joke around with your friend's colleagues and pretend to be his boyfriend?

If he was honest with himself, Courfeyrac was looking forward to the Valentine’s Day Party at the law office. He knew a few of Enjolras’ and Combeferre’s coworkers. Plus, parties were always a lot of fun! According to his friends, the food was always really good, so that was another thing Courfeyrac looked forward to. Of course, there was the added bonus of spending an entire evening in Combeferre’s vicinity without feeling too awkward. It would be amazing.

“You ready?” Combeferre poked his head around the corner into the bathroom. “You really don’t have to put so much effort into your hair. Your curls look great.”

Courfeyrac looked at him through the mirror and smiled. “Thank you, but my hair has to be perfect.”

Shit. A simple, normal compliment. Combeferre always did that. They did that. Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Combeferre. They complimented each other all the time, had always done that, ever since they were little. It was nothing special, so why did it feel so special all of a sudden?

“I know. We’ve still got time anyway.” Combeferre came into the bathroom and sat down onto the toilet lid. “I’m so glad it’s not a theme party. Remember last year?”

“Yes, I do,” Courfeyrac laughed. “I remember sending you and Enjolras off wearing only pink clothes. I have to say, the colour suits you more than him, though Enjolras still looked incredibly good. Just… that polo-shirt needs to be burnt.”

Combeferre laughed as well. “Oh fuck yes. It was a horrible shirt and I am so glad he doesn’t have any more of those. You’re the only person I know who can pull it off.”

“I shouldn’t take that as a compliment, but I am taking it as one,” he chuckled. “Give me five more minutes. I just need to curl my lashes and apply mascara and we’re good to go!”

“It’s so much fun to observe you doing that. You look like a fish, with your mouth open and just gazing into the mirror.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Combeferre swore. He winked at Courfeyrac’s reflection in the mirror, which prompted the other man to laugh.

“Good thing you didn’t do that while I was curling. Remember that time Enjolras made me laugh right in that moment?”

“You ripped out all your eyelashes. I mean, luckily you were with Jehan back then, who kindly gave you some of their fake eyelashes.”

“Those were dark times, we do not speak of them.” Courfeyrac leaned closer towards the mirror and applied his mascara. “Alright, I’m all set. Just need to put on my shoes. And coat. And scarf. And hat.”

“So basically everything.”

“As much as you.” He ruffled his hair once more and checked himself in the mirror again before he nodded contently. “Did you pack the presents?”

“Yeah, in my bag.”

Courfeyrac nodded and walked past Combeferre into the hallway of their shared flat. He quickly checked his phone, grinning as he opened the Snapchat Enjolras had sent him – and probably Combeferre, too.

“Aww, Enjolras hopes we’ll have lots of fun. He looks like Bossuet is entertaining him, there’s no way in hell he’d wear a hat like that otherwise.”

Combeferre opened his own message and grinned as well. “Ah, it does suit him though.”

“Let’s send him one back.”

“A hat?”

“What? No! Combeferre, really. A photo, I mean. Of us, ready to go to that party.”

“Oh right, that makes way more sense.”

Courfeyrac grinned and stood on his tip-toes to snap a photo of him kissing Combeferre’s cheek. He added the caption ‘leaving with bae’ and sent it off to Enjolras.

Somehow, Courfeyrac contemplated while they took the metro to the office, it was really unfair that he could actually be this close to his crush, that he could actually touch and hug and kiss Combeferre. It would be infinitely easier if it were an admiration from afar.

“You’re quiet,” Combeferre remarked after two stops.

“Hm? Oh, well, I’m thinking that maybe when we get to the party, people will guess that the present is from Enjolras and not from me. Do you think it matters?”

“Of course not. You’re basically Enjolras’ stand-in.”

Courfeyrac arched an eyebrow. “I’m Enjolras’ stand-in? Wow, Combeferre, ouch.”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that! I just mean that they know he can’t come but that I’ll bring someone else.”

“If anyone expects to me passionately rant about Enjolras’ favourite political topic, I will not disappoint them. I’m just as passionate about it as he is.”

“I know,” Combeferre smiled, “that’s what we all have in common, that’s why we’re all still friends after such a long time. Like brothers.”

“Yeah, like brothers,” Courfeyrac nodded in confirmation. You surely weren’t supposed to fall in love with your quasi-brother.

“There we are.” Taking his arm softly, Combeferre dragged Courfeyrac out of the metro and onto the platform.

The two made their way to the office, happily chatting about a new TV show they and Enjolras had started just before Enjolras had gone to Lyon. _Versailles_ was truly gripping, even though Combeferre kept complaining about the historical inaccuracies.

As soon as they arrived at the party, Combeferre went off to greet his closer colleagues. Courfeyrac dropped off their presents before seeking out the few people he knew to talk to them. He was glad to discover that his small crush on the environmental lawyer had completely vanished. He could be way more suave around her now.

After half an hour of chit-chat with various people, Combeferre sought out Courfeyrac again. He smiled at his friend and politely waited until he finished his conversation with the environmental lawyer.

“Do you wanna check out the buffet?” Combeferre wanted to know once she had left them.

“I wanna check out plenty,” Courfeyrac grinned, winking at him.

Combeferre only groaned and rolled his eyes before looping his arm through Courfeyrac’s and leading him towards the conference room, where the buffet was set up.

They chose something to eat and retreated to a table in the corner, the only one that was still free.

“You know,” Courfeyrac started while spreading garlic butter on his baguette, “they shouldn’t build these bar tables like this. Look! I can hardly reach it.”

“Courfeyrac, my dear friend, you can reach it just fine.”

“You can reach it finer.”

“I’m a head taller.”

“I know. It’s so unfair!” He sighs dramatically and leans against Combeferre, throwing his hands into the air. “The world does not cater to short men and society’s fucked up standards keep me from wearing high heels.”

“Which is a shame because your legs look divine in them.”

Courfeyrac laughed. He hoped the laugh overshadowed the stupid tingling in his stomach, there from both Combeferre’s compliment as well as the close physical contact. Damn his stupid heart. It didn’t get any better with Combeferre kissing the top of his head. He should be used to his now, after knowing that man for decades. Still, his heart acted up, threw a tantrum against his ribs, this stupid useless muscle!

“I know, heels make life better. We should bring back the trend of sexy calves.”

“Is that the reason you watch football?”

“You mean the sport in which men wear shorts, sweat a lot, have toned calves and generally amazing bodies? Naaaah, why would I watch that for any other reason than the tactics of Paris Saint-Germain?”

“Look, we talked about this. PSG is not that great. Okay, they’re first at the moment with quite a head start but Marseille will forever be my team. It’s my home town and I’m loyal.”

“Phu-lease. Have you seen Blaise Matuidi? He’s a God.”

“He’s not my type. I’d rather watch German football. The people there are amazing football players and kinda pretty, too. Mats Hummels, for example. I could watch him for hours. He is a really good player.”

“I have to admit, he’s not that bad. Still, I’ll stick with my PSG.”

“Fair enough. We can agree to disagree.”

“We can also agree to not watch Marseille vs PSG anymore. Enjolras threatened to move out last time…”

Combeferre laughed brightly. “As if he’d ever do that! He loves us too much.”

“Very true. We’re his besties. Does he get the Veiled Valentine’s gift I’m picking?”

“If he wants it, then yes.”

“He probably won’t. Anyway, let’s eat.”

“We could’ve been eating for ages but you decided to dramatically throw yourself against me and talk about calves.”

“Calves are great. But you’re right, food is greater.”

“And you’re the greatest,” Combeferre made Courfeyrac’s heart soar.

“Aww, you’re a charmer who just wants to eat.” Courfeyrac stood up straight again and carefully placed some camembert on his baguette.

“I cannot believe you put garlic butter under it.”

“Excuse me? Cheese and garlic go very well together.”

Combeferre smiled gently at him and dropped the topic. They ate in comfortable silence, both observing the people around them. After a few minutes, one of Combeferre’s and Enjolras’ co-workers joined them at their table, a plate in hand himself.

“How’s Enjolras doing in Lyon?”

“Oh, quite well,” Combeferre answered, “he’s helping them a lot, giving them advice on how to deal with all kinds of potential problems.”

“That’s really good to hear. It’s also nice that you two could come together then. You know that you could’ve brought your boyfriend anyway, right? And Enjolras could’ve just brought a different friend.”

“My… boyfriend? Oh, but we…” Combeferre stuttered.

“We know,” Courfeyrac softly interrupted him, “but I’m gladly spending this evening with my boyfriend. I don’t have nearly enough time, as a journalist.”

Courfeyrac batted his eyelashes at Combeferre, silently asking him to please just go along with the prank, just for the fun of it.

“Yeah, I’m really pleased I’ve got him for tonight,” Combeferre grinned, putting his arm around Courfeyrac’s waist and pulling him a bit closer. “Usually Valentine’s Day is a bit sad without your boyfriend being there since he’s working a lot, so this evening helps with coping. We might leave fairly early though tonight. Courfeyrac promised a surprise.” He kissed Courfeyrac’s cheek and smiled at his co-worker.

“I did indeed,” he beamed. If it was getting slightly hot in the room, it definitely had nothing to do with the feeling of his best friend’s lips on his skin, nothing at all. Because Courfeyrac was not in love with Combeferre.

“But you’ll stay until the presents, right?”

“Of course,” Combeferre nodded, “we promised Enjolras to bring his Veiled Valentine’s Present back home.”

“Veiled Valentine’s Present?”

“Yeah, Courf came up with that term. Like Secret Santa, but for Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s really clever. You see, I organise this, so I think I’ll officially name it Veiled Valentine’s Presents next year. Thank you.”

“Ah, no worries, it was my pleasure.”

“Courfeyrac is really clever with word plays. It’s why we get along so well. I love languages, he loves puns, so we love each other.”

His co-worker smiled gently. “That’s really cute. I’ll gladly let you go home after the presents are given out. Usually I protest more, you know me, but I’ll make an exception for you two.”

“Thank you,” Combeferre smiled. “Doesn’t it start soon?”

“It does,” he nodded, “so I’ll leave you two to it and see you soon.” He smiled at them and took his wine with him when he went away.

As soon as he was out of sight, Courfeyrac started laughing.

“Thank you so much for playing along!”

“It was fun! I guess I’ll be your pretend boyfriend until we get home then. So, will you hold my hand when we walk to the present ceremony together?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Courfeyrac smiled. “Under one condition: we’re linking fingers.”

And if that condition was very self-indulgent… Well, no one needed to know.

Combeferre gasped in mock shock. “Linking fingers? No, that’s going a step too far. We wouldn’t want anyone to think that we’re more than dating.”

“More than dating? Screwing? Being engaged? Being married?”

“Good Lord, what will The Heterosexuals think?”

“You need to shove gay love into their heterosexual faces for them to see that it exists.”

“Ah, but that Heterosexual just now thought we’d be dating and we didn’t even touch each other.”

“I’m lowkey always touching you.” Courfeyrac furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? That sounded way creepier than intended.”

“With the years I learned to ignore some of the creepy things you say.”

“I think that’s for the best,” Courfeyrac laughed. “So, linking fingers, yes or no?”

“Yes. We’re fake dating, we have to make it seem real. Oh God, I bet for the next six months everyone will be asking me about my boyfriend. At least now no one will ask about my dating life anymore. When I say I spent my weekend with you, I won’t get pitiful looks anymore because I’m not dating and, and I quote Charlene from the front desk, I’m such a charming, good-looking man, it’s a real shame I’m not dating anyone but she could totally set me up with her gay cousin.” Combeferre groaned. “Every Monday, I swear.”

“I know. Even Enjolras complains about that. If you’re not completely opposed to fake-kissing me, maybe we can make her understand that you really don’t need to be set up with that cousin.”

Courfeyrac knew he was pushing his luck. He knew how much kisses meant to Combeferre. True kisses were more intimate to Courfeyrac than sex could ever be (not that he would ever stop having sex, please, sex was pretty amazing), and he knew Combeferre was very hesitant with kissing his dates. But it was worth a shot. He couldn’t say more than no.

“It would be real kissing, Courfeyrac.”

“Is it though? When you don’t feel anything, is it real kissing? Plus, I’ve kissed your face plenty of times. You’ve kissed mine, too.”

“Let’s try it without and see how she reacts, okay?”

“Of course. You’re too tall to be kissed anyway.”

Combeferre simply chuckled, shook his head in amusement, and took a sip of his wine.

“Mesdames and Messieurs,” they saw the coworker from before enter the small stage, “I would like to officially open the give-away. I’ll call your names in alphabetical order. Please step forward and take a gift out of the box. Thank you.”

Combeferre grabbed Courfeyrac’s hand, intertwining their fingers. About a thousand butterflies were currently fluttering through Courfeyrac’s stomach. They say that a single stroke of wing can create hurricanes, and in this moment Courfeyrac was convinced of that truth. He tried to concentrate on something else than his rapid heartbeat, but it proved more difficult than hoped. Every thought lead him back to Combeferre. He thought about how he might trip on the few meters forward, about how Combeferre had insisted he wore the black Converse instead of his Vans with robots on them, about how he wanted to freeze this moment for all eternity just to never let go off his best friend’s hand.

He was dragged back into reality by Combeferre’s name being called. It meant letting go of his hand after all, so Combeferre could collect his Veiled Valentine’s Present.

He unwrapped the small box once he was back next to Courfeyrac.

“It’s hideous,” Courfeyrac remarked upon looking at the small marble statue of two dogs mating. “I love it.”

Combeferre laughed. “Go on now, they called Enjolras’ name. That’s you.”

“Whoa, I’m Enjolras?? True, I have the beauty, the grace, the undeniably marvellous hair… Stop rolling your eyes!” He lightly shoved Combeferre before making his way to the stage.

After a dramatic bow towards the audience, Courfeyrac picked a large and weirdly shaped brown thing. He quickly retreated back to Combeferre, despite wishing he could stand upon the stage and gaze down on the person of his affection a little while longer.

“I hope to God this isn’t something one of their kids made,” Courfeyrac said before quickly unwrapping the object. “Aww, look at that! It’s just as hideous as yours!”

“Enjolras will probably kill you. He told you three times to never pick the biggest thing. But then again, where’s the fun in that?” Combeferre grinned at Courfeyrac, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Uh-oh. What’s your plan? I’m on board.”

“Well, this seems to be a life-size cardboard cut-out of John Travolta…”

“After his good years though,” Courfeyrac interrupted.

“Yes, after his Grease-days. Don’t you think we should place our cut-out friend in Enjolras’ wardrobe?”

Courfeyrac grinned. “Yes! That is a fantastic idea. I know why I love you.” Courfeyrac nearly bit his tongue. Shit! That could be interpreted in a less than platonic way.

“It’s my affection for bees, I know,” Combeferre joked back. A weight lifted from Courfeyrac’s shoulders. Lucky him, for now.

“It’s the bees. Your affection for all things small, really, considering my height. Ah, but then there’s my dick…”

“Oh my God, not in front of all the people!”

“I wasn’t gonna pull it out!”

“Thank you for having some human decency!” Combeferre tried to look stern but couldn’t help the giggles escaping his lips. “As long as you don’t name it…”

“R did that once. I’ll take that name to my grave though.”

“Oh please. If I wanted to, I could easily convince Grantaire to spill that secret.”

“I think you need less wine and more bread or those ideas will get worse by the minute.”

“More baguette sounds great, as does more cheese. Next time you visit your parents you should bring more of that delicious Camembert.”

“I will, promise. It’s so good! But I have to say, your company wasn’t cheap either. All of this is really good quality. We should make use of the buffet and eat more.”

“I agree.”

Together, they got some more to eat before joining one of Combeferre’s coworkers at a table. They chatted for a while, laughing, talking about work. Courfeyrac couldn’t really talk that much, but he was content to simply listen. Besides, since everyone was concentrating on each other, Courfeyrac could concentrate on Combeferre. It was truly amazing, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about a case of his. Combeferre was working as a doctor. The entire law office worked pro bono for refugees and they had a lot to do at the moment. The office didn’t only employ lawyers; Combeferre was one of three doctors working for them.

Courfeyrac hardly saw Enjolras and Combeferre, thanks to all their jobs. It was worth it though. Whenever Courfeyrac saw his friends they were exhausted but happy. They both still had this glimmer in their eyes, the same glimmer Combeferre had right now, talking about the little boy he treated yesterday. Courfeyrac was, as always, mesmerized. Combeferre talked so vividly, so passionately. A part of him wondered if that passion carried on outside of his obsessions.

At the end of the evening, Courfeyrac felt like he had done nothing but stare. At Combeferre gesturing wildly with his hands, at his eyes lighting up with the familiar passion, the curve of his brows, the slight tint of his lips stained from red wine.

It wasn’t unusual to be sexually attracted to beautiful people Courfeyrac told himself as he left the party. His fingers were intertwined with Combeferre’s since they were walking to the station with a coworker. He revelled in the still unfamiliar feeling of the large hand grasping his own, the slim fingers perfectly slotted against his smaller ones. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to fake a relationship. This was his life, not a movie, not one of Musichetta’s slightly filthy romance novels (they were excellently bad and Courfeyrac loved them). It wouldn’t end with both confessing their feelings for each other at the end of the night, it wouldn’t end with them tumbling into bed, hands and lips on every bit of skin they could find.

“You really are a cute couple,” Combeferre’s colleague commented as they came to a stop on the platform.

“I’m cute, he’s the couple,” Courfeyrac nodded, “though that doesn’t make much sense.”

Combeferre laughed and kissed his cheek. “Don’t mind him. He likes to talk back but I think the wine got to our brains. It doesn’t matter, we can sleep in tomorrow.”

“You can, I can’t. I’ve gotta be at work at 10am.”

“Isn’t it upsetting to not be with your partner on Valentine’s Day? I don’t have one but whenever I did, I spent Valentine’s Day with them.”

“We can’t help that Courfeyrac needs to work on Sundays, too. We haven’t been together for very long so this is actually our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. Last year, we spent it with Enjolras because we’re all good friends and that’s what Valentine’s Day should be for, too. Besides, Valentine is also the patron of the plague, gotta keep that in mind.”

Courfeyrac grinned. “He tells that story every year. You can be glad he didn’t go into detail about how Valentine became a saint. It’s a thrilling story though. Of course I’d rather spent Valentine’s Day with the man I love than at work but that doesn’t mean it’s a sad day. I get to wake up next to him, I get to kiss the palm of his hand, his forehead. I get to come home to him. Really, I can’t complain. Knowing Combeferre, he’ll pretend to sleep until I’m in the shower only to get up and surprise me with a nice breakfast anyway.”

“You got me there,” Combeferre laughed. “Oh, our train is coming. I’ll see you on Tuesday, Catherine. Please text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

“I will.” She hugged both of them and waved her goodbye as they stepped onto the metro.

Courfeyrac let himself slump into the seat, dragging Combeferre with him. They both knew Courfeyrac got extra cuddly when drunk but they also both knew that he hadn’t reached that stage yet. So there was no point in pretending simply to be close to Combeferre.

“I might actually make you breakfast, even if you’re not my boyfriend,” Combeferre mumbled as he kissed the top of Courfeyrac’s head. “A platonic love breakfast.”

“I would appreciate that a lot but you don’t have to.”

“You know I will.”

“I know you will.” Courfeyrac squeezed his hand lightly. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Combeferre hadn’t let go yet, even though there was no need to pretend anymore.

No, it really was no shame to be sexually attracted to beautiful people, but maybe it was a bit weird to be sexually attracted to your best friend. Courfeyrac wouldn’t pay too much attention to it, if it weren’t accompanied by the unusually strong feeling of wanting to slowly run his fingertips over Combeferre’s cheekbones. He wanted to trace the hollow of his neck with his lips, feel him arch up into his touch, hear his laboured breathing, look into wide-blown pupils. He wanted to be the reason for Combeferre losing himself.

They walked home, still hand in hand until Combeferre unlocked the door.

“I think I’m heading straight to bed,” Courfeyrac yawned.

“You should. I’ll do the same, I’m so knackered. See you in the morning?”

“Yeah, see you in the morning. Oh, you wanna use the bathroom first?”

“No, please go ahead.” Combeferre smiled softly at him and kissed his cheek. “I had fun tonight. It was great to play your boyfriend for a night.”

“Thank you for going along with it. It was hilarious to fool all your coworkers. We should tell Enjolras though, otherwise he’ll be really confused if someone talks to him about it.”

“I’ll text him while you’re in the bathroom. Good night and sleep tight.”

“Don’t let patriarchy take away your basic human rights.”

“Trying my best.”

Courfeyrac grinned at him and, after shucking of his shoes, got ready for bed. Once he was curled up under the covers, Courfeyrac tried to ignore the stupid feeling in his gut. Both feelings, actually. One he was very familiar with. The heat, the desire - it wasn’t anything new. He felt his hand travel down and forced himself to stop. No. There was no way he would jerk off to his best friend. But then again, would that be so bad? Did it matter who fuelled his fantasies? Did it matter if it was some guy he saw on the metro in the morning or his best friend? Wasn’t it better that it was his best friend? Besides, and that was number two of his gut-feelings, he’d jerk off to the guy he had a crush on. That had never been a problem with Jehan, so why did he feel so bad about imagining Combeferre now?

The worst was: Courfeyrac felt so alone. Back in the day, while he had been crushing on Jehan, he could talk to Enjolras and Combeferre about it. But now? He couldn’t talk to either of them! He couldn’t talk to Jehan, that would feel strange even though they were really good friends. Maybe Grantaire? He sighed and curled up tighter, grabbing is phone. Never in his life had he felt so damn alone, despite having so many people in his life.

Courfeyrac quickly typed a message addressed to Marius. He was such a good friend but wouldn’t try and set him up with Combeferre. Marius would respect his wish and try to distract him. But just before sending it, Courfeyrac deleted the message again. It was the night before Valentine’s Day. Marius, happily engaged to Cosette, surely had better things to do than comfort Courfeyrac. So he placed his phone on the bedside table again, shutting his eyes tight.

It truly wasn’t fair. No matter if he closed his eyes or had them open, images of Combeferre flooded his mind. His laugh, his smile, the feeling of his lips against his cheek, maybe his collarbone, maybe further down. Maybe his lips around his nipples? Would that be a thing Combeferre would do? Courfeyrac decided to allow himself one night of selfish indulgence. Tomorrow he’d attack the problem. This wasn’t a crush anymore, this was full-blown admiration and desire. A night of indulgence, then it needed to stop.

So he closed his eyes tighter and gave in to the feeling, making sure to keep quiet and under no circumstances to let the name on his mind slip past his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading! I'll try to update it like every 10 days, that should work!


	3. I Can Hear The Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac doesn't know how to handle his crush on Combeferre anymore. It's time he admits his feelings - at least to himself.

Valentine’s Day came and went, as did spring. Courfeyrac’s feelings for Combeferre had been very persistent though. Even now, his mind kept wandering to Combeferre during lonely nights. Hookups with beautiful people from nightclubs and bars didn’t have the desired effect. They just left him feeling empty, used, and guilty in the morning. Courfeyrac had never been one to flee the scene but now he couldn’t wait to get out of his one-night-stands’ flat. He had never believed in the walk of shame but now the feeling was overwhelming whenever he came home from a night out. After his first one-night-stand at his own flat, Courfeyrac had slowly realised that he felt terrible doing it in his own room, Combeferre right next to him. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly bothered him, he only knew that using his flat increased the feeling of shame. He had spent this night alone again, despite plenty of offers. Somehow it felt like cheating on Combeferre whenever he kissed someone else.

A knock on his door made Courfeyrac look at his phone. It wasn’t too early but also no later than 12:30pm. He contemplated to fake sleep still until he heard Marius’ soft “Courfeyrac?” from the other side of the door.

“Come in, door’s open,” Courfeyrac informed him. He didn’t bother sitting up. Hell, he had seen Marius cry, Marius had seen him throw up while crying! There was nothing he had to hide from him, except maybe his crush on Combeferre. After his near slip-up on Valentine’s Day, Courfeyrac had decided to not tell Marius about it. Maybe it would go away sooner than he thought and then he would have worried Marius for nothing.

“Hey sunshine,” Marius smiled at him. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I’ve been lying awake for a few hours.”

“Okay.” Marius shucked off his shoes and jeans before crawling into bed, curling up around Courfeyrac. “What’s up?”

“You took off your pants.”

“Yeah, they’re too tight to be comfortable when cuddling.”

“I’m sure Cosette doesn’t think so.”

“She thinks they look great but are impractical because I cannot cuddle in them properly and because these pockets are tiny. Nothing fits in there! But I accidentally dropped my bread with Nutella on my only other pair of clean pants this morning…”

Courfeyrac chuckled. “I thought Bossuet was the one with bad luck.”

“I didn’t have bad luck because I still had a second pair of jeans.”

“True that.” He snuggled a little closer. “But I bet you’re not here to tell me the story of your Nutella-jeans.”

“Is that not an exciting story? Here I am, telling you of the fatality, the mishaps of my life, spilling my heart and you ignore it.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I learned from the best.” Marius kissed his cheek. “First, you tell me what’s up with you. I’ve been worried. We’ve been worried. Cosette and I. Combeferre. Even Enjolras asked me if I knew something, which I, obviously, don’t do.”

Courfeyrac cringed a little. He hadn’t quite realised how his behaviour might look to the others because, to him, there was nothing odd about him going out to party.

“Why would you worry?”

“You’ve been… I don’t know. You’ve been quiet lately, sometimes. Unusually quiet. And you sleep around a lot. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it isn’t you to have someone else nearly every weekend. I know you’ve done it before but not as excessively. Not as desperately. I know Combeferre and Enjolras tried talking to you. You didn’t talk to them so my guess is that it’s something they cannot know for whatever reason. So, what’s been going on? It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it. Just know that your friends are always there, okay? We’re here for you. Nothing is as bad as you think it is.”

“This one’s really bad. I can’t talk to Enjolras or Combeferre about it.”

“I’m sorry. I know they’re your best friends. It must be really really hard not to be able to talk to them. I know I’m not an adequate substitute for them but maybe it’s something you could tell someone to whom you’re not as close?”

Courfeyrac cursed himself. Of course that’s the way Marius would see it! That boy had the self-esteem of a fish asked to climb a tree. He should’ve known it. Now it simply meant damage control.

“Noooo, Marius, you’re a beautiful tropical fish and I love you very much. It’s just that you’re really busy with organising the wedding and I don’t wanna distract you.”

“And you think seeing you upset and distraught without knowing the reason isn’t distracting?”

“Probably not?”

“No. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it but then please give me some peace of mind and tell me that, yes, something is up but you’ve got it under control.”

“I do have it under control, I promise. It’s all fine. It’s not fine-fine, which is hard to admit, but it’s under control. It’s a bit of a roller-coaster at the moment. Sometimes I want to do nothing more than shut my eyes and pray it stops but then I remember that it actually isn’t that bad, that I like it, that there’s nothing to be worried about, nothing to be in pain about. I’ll tell you one day, really. I’m still figuring it all out myself. You’re a wonderful friend and I know how hard it must’ve been for you to address this topic. Thank you for caring, you have an amazing heart and very nice eyelashes. I can’t tell you much. I can tell you that sometimes I feel very lonely, even when I’ve got so many people who love me and who are there for me.”

“Maybe you could just text me when that happens? I can’t offer much advice, really. I know how that feels. I just… It was very lonely for me, even when I lived with you. You were with Enjolras and Combeferre a lot, then you were with Jehan and I just… I simply lived at your place but not much with you. Some days it would get really bad and nothing helped. I knew, theoretically, that I could tell you and you’d ease my mind. As if I’d ever do that. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t spend time together cause we did. A lot of time, watching telly or just chatting. I still felt lonely. It only started to change when I got a bit closer to Grantaire and Jehan, when they started spending time with me outside of meetings. I didn’t feel like an inconvenience anymore. At least not as much as I used to. I got a lot closer to you, too. I dared to just sleep in your bed on nights where it was really bad and you were fine with it, even offered it. It got so much better. Sometimes it takes a while to get better. Sometimes you just need to be by yourself because it doesn’t feel right to bother anyone. But if you feel lonely and it’s getting too much, you can text me or call me and I’ll come over. It’s no problem and you won’t distract me from any wedding plans. Cosette understands. She knows that you’re like a brother to me. You wouldn’t get upset if I were to ask you for help, would you? So keep that in mind next time, alright?” Marius kissed his temple and snuggled closer. “We can change the topic now, if you want to.”

“I’d like that, please,” Courfeyrac whispered. He turned around in Marius’ arms so he could bury his face against his friend’s chest and hear his heartbeat. It worked wonders to make him feel better.

“I could tell you about the cake testing yesterday.”

“Ohhh, please do!”

“Well, it’s a pretty cool offer! You can taste ten different cakes out of a sample of twenty in total. It’s for free when you’re engaged but it’s only until next weekend, then the offer ends.”

“But… How did you prove you’re engaged?”

“We didn’t. I think they just believed us. Huh. I didn’t even think about that. We’ve booked another tasting for next weekend to try the other ten cakes.”

“Which ones did you have this time?”

“Cosette picked five and I did. We had French chocolate cake, lemon meringue, vanilla sponge… I forgot the other names. There was a really yummy one with strawberries and a cream cheese frosting. We had a little card to rate the cakes. It was pretty cool!”

“I’m glad you liked it. Are you gonna take one of their cakes?”

“Maybe. We’ll try the other ones and then probably book a tasting with our favourite five and some friends so you can taste those ones, too. Then we can all rate them and decide together.”

“That’s a really nice idea.”

“We thought so, too.” Marius kissed the top of his head. “Combeferre and Enjolras were making brunch when I came in. Do you wanna check out of we can steal some of their food and then just curl up in bed to watch telly?”

“Will you wear jeans?”

“Probably not. I might borrow sweatpants from Combeferre or Enjolras. Yours are too short and then my ankles are freezing.”

Courfeyrac giggled. “Okay, fair enough. Give me three minutes to calm down a bit and then we can steal food.”

Courfeyrac closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. It truly was good to know that his friends wouldn’t abandon him. Sometimes, during lonely nights and overwhelmingly mean thoughts, Courfeyrac was convinced that he was simply too much, too loud, too energetic, too affectionate. But then he’d come home and Enjolras would immediately hug him because he had a shit day or Combeferre would run his fingers through his curls to calm himself down after a hard day at work. And on some days, days which were hard for Courfeyrac, his friends instinctively knew to leave him be. Sometimes he’d look through all the photos on his phone, bright smiles and hugs, truly believing that everyone just put up with him because they had to. But then Joly would send him a text to check in, Éponine would snapchat a photo of Gavroche and herself, and Courfeyrac stopped feeling so lonely for a while. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he ever confessed out loud how he felt for Combeferre. In his conviction, there were two outcomes: Combeferre felt the same, Combeferre didn’t feel the same. Courfeyrac couldn’t say which was scarier. It all ended with losing his friends anyway.

“You’re not getting calmer,” Marius mumbled.

“No, I’m not.”

“I think it would be good for Enjolras and Combeferre to see you. Good for you, too. Maybe we could just go and grab some tea? You don’t have to talk to them. Would that be alright?”

Courfeyrac sighed. He knew he couldn’t hide from them. He didn’t want to hide, he wanted to be with his friends. He just wanted it to be okay again, like it used to. As hard as it was to drag himself out of bed right now, he knew he’d be happy as soon as he saw the two.

“Alright. I want hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Let’s steal some brunch and watch… Uhm…”

“The Princess Diaries?”

“Yes!” Courfeyrac disentangled himself from Marius’ embrace and looked through his drawer for some fluffy socks. He thought about putting on a shirt or sweatpants but decided against it. Too much effort. Plus, part of him wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of Combeferre. Probably not though, as Combeferre had seen him plenty of times in nothing but boxers.

Courfeyrac followed Marius out of his room. As he had thought, Enjolras and Combeferre were still sitting at the kitchen table, Combeferre reading a book, Enjolras reading the news on his tablet.

“Morning! Noon? Either way.” Courfeyrac planted kisses on their cheeks. “We’re here to steal food and get hot chocolate.”

“There’s plenty of food left,” Combeferre smiled at him. “Are you hungover?”

“No, I’m actually not. I didn’t drink much yesterday and came home really early. I was a good boy.”

Enjolras pulled a face. “You know you shouldn’t say that in such a tone and with so much eyebrow-wiggling.”

Courfeyrac simply grinned and sat down on Enjolras’ lap to snuggle a bit while Marius prepared the hot chocolates. Enjolras embraced him tightly. Courfeyrac wasn’t sure if he wanted to silently show him support or stop him from wriggling around too much, but he was thankful either way.

“Is Marius staying over for dinner?” Combeferre wanted to know.

“I don’t know. Don’t think so. We’ll watch a few movies.”

“I think I won’t stay,” Marius chimed in. “I’d love to but I know that I’ll end up staying for ages and Cosette and I wanted to look at wedding menus this evening. So I’ll stay for movies and cuddles and more hot chocolate and head home no later than 8pm.”

In the end, after extensive snuggling, peppering faces with kisses, playing with hair and drinking lots of hot chocolate, Marius left the flat at 9:30pm, leaving behind a Courfeyrac who felt much better than he had in days. There were no words to describe how much Courfeyrac actually loved Marius, this sweet and kind and weird man who somehow slipped into his life all thanks to Bahorel. He just hoped Marius knew how loved he was. But then again, Courfeyrac himself often enough forgot how much his friends loved him.

*

The week went fairly well for Courfeyrac. He talked a bit to Enjolras, late at night and curled up on his bed on Tuesday. He didn’t tell him about his crush, just said that he needed a bit of time to work on issues. Courfeyrac told Combeferre the same on Wednesday night, his head pillowed on his friend’s chest, listening to Combeferre’s heartbeat. In that moment, Courfeyrac was convinced that there was nothing else he wanted to do for the rest of his entire life. Combeferre’s steady heartbeat, Combeferre’s slim fingers lightly caressing his arm, Combeferre’s lips pressing soft kisses on his forehead - why would he ever want to fall out of love when it felt just so damn good?

On Thursday night, Courfeyrac slept sprawled across Enjolras, his hand somehow in Combeferre’s face. Was it weird for three 20-something year old men to share a bed? Maybe. But he wouldn’t want to stop doing that ever. His ever-racing mind stopped as soon as he was with the two. He simply slept better with another person in his bed, especially when he trusted these people with his life.

Friday evening, Courfeyrac had just ended the meeting when Marius came in. He and Cosette had plenty to do before their wedding; everyone understood that they couldn’t always come to meetings. But they tried, and always asked Combeferre to send them the notes of what they’d missed.

“Sorry! I couldn’t come earlier! Cosette is still at the florist. You have no idea how stupid it is to pick out flowers which are affordable and match the rest of the decoration. It’s exhausting and we’re about to just call off the whole thing and get married without flowers.” He sighed and slumped down onto the chair. “We’ll probably just ask Jehan to help us out with the flowers.”

“At least you have the cake tasting tomorrow,” Courfeyrac offered. “That’ll be great!”

“About that… We can’t make it. The priest wants to talk to us and that’s the only appointment he had left before the wedding. Anyway, what did you talk about today?”

“I’ll get you a tea and Enjolras can fill you in?” Courfeyrac squeezed his shoulder and left his friends.

Before the engagement, he had had no idea how stressful weddings were. He knew a bit about event management and planning, but a wedding was an entirely different matter. He really didn’t envy Cosette and Marius when it came to that. But the wedding - oh, the wedding! Sometimes, when he was bored at work, his mind wandered to how it would be to marry Combeferre. Would they have a big ceremony? Marius and Cosette weren’t, and Courfeyrac thought he and Combeferre would prefer it that way, too. Otherwise it would be really tricky to choose whom to invite and whom to leave out without hurting anyone’s feelings or jeopardising business relationships.

Courfeyrac tried to banish all thoughts of marrying Combeferre (really, what was he thinking?) and brought Marius’ tea, his own hot chocolate, as well as coffee and tea for Enjolras and Combeferre back to their table. Student years of waiting tables paid off as he balanced the tray on his hand and took a bow.

“Messieurs.” Courfeyrac handed out the drinks and sat down next to Marius and Combeferre with his hot chocolate.

“So,” Combeferre started as he turned towards Courfeyrac and smiled, “you remember the Valentine’s Day Party?”

“Of course.” Please, how could he forget the night during which he was allowed to hold Combeferre’s hand and tell people he loved him? “Why?”

“Because I need you to think of how you proposed to me. Or did I propose to you? Huh. I don’t know. What do you reckon?”

“…. What?”

Shit. Now his mind was occupied. The problem was that Courfeyrac knew exactly how he’d ask Combeferre to marry him. He also knew how he’d like Combeferre to ask Courfeyrac to marry him. These thoughts probably weren’t common when you were just lusting after a really gorgeous person. Maybe he could admit to himself that he did indeed love his best friend. But not today, he was too busy convincing himself that he wasn’t.

“Marius and Cosette can’t go to their tasting so I figured we could go instead. We got a bit of experience in fake-dating, so why not being-fake-engaged?”

Courfeyrac’s mind raced. He didn’t have a ring. Of course he had rings! But all of them were for fashion. Never mind, he knew Combeferre had his mother’s old engagement ring. So if Combeferre was wearing… No, the ring was for Combeferre to give to his fiancé. Weren’t Courfeyrac’s fingers too chubby for it? Wait. Would Combeferre even let him wear his mother’s engagement ring? Probably not, which he understood.

“Courfeyrac? It’s okay if you don’t want to, that’s fine. Maybe it’s too weird for us to pretend we’re engaged and totally in love.”

Did he hear a slight disappointment in Combeferre’s voice? Probably not, it was just his mind playing tricks on him, his subconscious making him hear things that cannot be.

“No! I mean, I’d love to be your pretend fiancé to help Marius and Cosette. That would be great.”

“Good.” Combeferre smiled softly. “So how did we get engaged?”

“That depends on who’s wearing the ring. I have plenty I could wear but they might not make for good engagement rings.”

“Don’t you have your mum’s engagement ring?” Enjolras asked Combeferre. “I mean, I understand if you don’t want to risk…”

“No, you’re right. That would be perfect. We should try it at home and then come up with a story of how we got engaged. And how we got together.”

“Why not tell the truth?” Enjolras took a sip from his latte and looked at the two of them. If Courfeyrac didn’t know there was no way Enjolras knew about his crush, he’d swear his friend was playing him. “You knew each other for years and at some point you two simply realised that you felt more for each other than platonic love.”

“And when Cosette and I decided to get married and started planning you two figured that maybe you’d like to marry, too. Which makes it plausible as to why you’re our substitutes in this case, even though you don’t have a fixed date for the wedding yet.”

“Sounds like a good story to me,” Combeferre nodded. “You on board?”

“I’m on board,” Courfeyrac smiled.

Fuck. An entire day of eating cake, joking with Combeferre, talking about their love and relationship - Courfeyrac wasn’t sure how to survive it without accidentally confessing his (not quite so small) crush. He hadn’t decided yet if he wanted to kiss Combeferre or not. Well, he always wanted to kiss him (it had become quite a problem, especially when he was getting sleepy), but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fake-kiss Combeferre. It wouldn’t be good for his heart - that would simply explode with joy and pain.

Marius quickly explained to them where to go and what to tell the bakers. He gave them his card, told them which cakes to taste and asked them to please remember that he wasn’t keen on fruit in cake (something Courfeyrac knew Enjolras loved) if it wasn’t strawberry cake. After all those details were out of the way, Enjolras filled Marius in on the meeting he had missed.

That night, after discussing the engagement with Combeferre, Courfeyrac fantasised. He had lost all shame and guilt a while ago. Okay, so he did have wet dreams about his crush, and he did masturbate to Combeferre, but jerking off to the thought of their wedding night was something that was new even for Courfeyrac. He supposed it was best to just roll with it, because there was no way he could force another image into his mind than the one of slowly kissing Combeferre while loosening the tie of his dark blue wedding suit. The fact that he was finished before either one of his fantasy-newlyweds was naked or had laid a hand on the other was just proof of how far gone Courfeyrac was. Maybe, he thought, it was really time to admit it to himself.

*

It was surprisingly easy to get into the cake tasting. Marius had sent them an email the evening before to let them know, and when Courfeyrac and Combeferre had come in holding hands and presented Cosette’s and Marius’ tasting card, no one had questioned it. The thought that they could’ve just said they’re good friends of the couple did cross Courfeyrac’s mind. But would he ever utter said thought? Nah. He’d take away his opportunity to hold Combeferre’s hand and look at him the way he wanted to: with awe and admiration, love and a bit of lust. Maybe he should’ve continued his acting school, seeing as how fucking good he was at pretending to pretend he was in love with his best friend. He only waited for Combeferre to say that, if he wouldn’t know better, he’d believe Courfeyrac was actually in love with him. Courfeyrac would just laugh awkwardly and respond with something sarcastic. It truly wasn’t easy. For now, he concentrated on cake, and on being a good friend to Marius and Cosette.

It was a really good system. The couple got one small piece of cake to share. Of course, it was a bit of shame that it was so small if you really liked the cake, but you also had ten pieces in total. Courfeyrac and Combeferre agreed that they did a good job. But as soon as they go their second slice, Courfeyrac regretted all of his life choices that had let him to this point.

The cake had a pudding filling, some of which had somehow found its way onto the corner of Combeferre’s mouth. Courfeyrac watched in awe (shock? desire?) as Combeferre’s tongue expertly scooped up the dollop and licked over his lower lip. As if that wouldn’t be enough, a second dollop missed its goal. Combeferre wiped it away with his little finger before carefully sucking on it to eat every bit of pudding that could’ve escaped. Courfeyrac groaned inwardly. He was convinced the universe just wanted to fuck with him. There was no other explanation as to why he was in this situation.

It didn’t get better after that. Courfeyrac was forced to sit through Combeferre licking his lips, swirling his tongue around the small fork and wiping milk foam off his upper lip. After the fifth cake, Courfeyrac tried really hard not to show how much it affected him. They chatted idly while trying the cakes, discussing if Marius and Cosette would like cake two or cake three better. It was pure torture. Courfeyrac decided to fight fire with fire. Of course, his ministrations would never have the same effect on Combeferre as Combeferre’s ministrations on him. Still, it was worth a shot. His own small inside joke, for his own satisfaction.

“You’ve got a bit of…” Courfeyrac leaned over the table and swiped the whipped cream from the corner of Combeferre’s mouth before licking it off his thumb. “Really, you’re older than five and still have trouble eating?” He chuckled quietly.

Combeferre in return simply stared at him for a few moments before softly shaking his head. “Says the one who is always covered in Nutella after eating crêpes.”

“Now that’s just unfair. It’s really hard to eat them! Stupid paper plates and all…” Courfeyrac grinned at him and took a sip of his latte macchiato, liking the milk foam off his upper lip. He saw Combeferre’s eyes go a little wider and briefly wondered why the hell it was so easy to rile him up today. Maybe it was the setting. Maybe he just imagined it.

From then on, it was a small battle between them. Courfeyrac knew that Combeferre didn’t do anything intentionally. That he didn’t intentionally groan and moan around almost every bit of cake he ate, that he didn’t intentionally shoot him bedroom-eyes. Courfeyrac, on the other hand, groaned and moaned intentionally but hoped it wouldn’t seem like it.

It didn’t take long for some of the other couples to stare at them, whisper a few things Courfeyrac couldn’t understand. The man from the next table even leaned over.

“Excuse me?”

Courfeyrac mentally prepared himself for an onslaught of _What the hell are you thinking_ or anything homophobic.

“Yes?” Combeferre turned towards the man, a smile on his lips. Courfeyrac knew this smile. It was the ‘kind yet malicious’ one, which he always adapted when he was preparing to fuck with some homophobic ass. Good to know that his fiancé – pardon, best friend – had the same worries as Courefyrac himself.

“I’m just wondering… how long have you two been together? You still seem so in love and, pardon me for saying it, sexually aroused by each other. So… how?”

“Oh,” Courfeyrac smiled, “we’ve actually known each other ever since we were teenagers. Best friends and all. And somehow over the course of the years, we just fell in love.”

“Really? Wasn’t it scary to tell the other?”

“It was,” Combeferre nodded, “I was so scared I would lose my best friend over my feelings. But there was this pull and I couldn’t shut out my feelings forever, you know? I tried really hard but at some point we just… drifted together. I don’t really know how it happened, which is weird, but at some point we kissed while cuddling and it felt so good, so normal.”

“For both of us,” Courfeyrac added. “From then on we were together. That was about a year and a half ago.”

“And you’re engaged now?”

“Yeah!” Courfeyrac nodded happily. “We are! Combeferre asked me like two weeks ago. See this?” He shows the couple the engagement ring. “It was Combeferre’s mother’s ring. And now I have it. I love it, it sparkles and is yet so simple. I know it’s not a ring chosen for me, for our relationship, but it still feels like it because it’s simple, just like falling in love was, but it’s also gorgeous and unique, just like our relationship.”

Combeferre smiled softly and leaned over the table to kiss his cheek. “That was very sweet of you.”

“You know me, I’m the sweetest,” Courfeyrac grinned at him.

“May I ask how you got engaged? You two are just so happy. We are, too, and we love to share stories.”

“Why don’t you tell us about yourselves first?” Combeferre suggested.

“We could do that,” the wife nodded. “It’s not as romantic, really. We met each other online about three years ago, but not on a dating website. It was actually… uhm… oh god.” She laughed and blushed.

“It was a MMORPG website,” her husband-to-be filled in, “my sister made me play it and I hated it. I ended up on a team with my gorgeous fiancée. I had no fucking clue what to do and accidentally killed the entire team within five minutes. She yelled at me in the comments and I yelled back. Somehow this worked out surprisingly well.”

Courfeyrac smiled softly. “That is actually a much better and more entertaining meeting-story than ours. For how long have you two been engaged?”

“A year now. Our wedding is next month and we’ve got everything but the cake. Though I think number seven will be our winner.”

“Oh, we didn’t have that one,” Combeferre said, “we had eleven to 20. 14 was definitely my favourite.”

“Oh, we had 14, too!” The man exclaimed. “It was really good, but not as good as seven.”

“So, tell us about your engagement then?” The woman pressed on, beaming at Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

“Uhm… Combeferre asked. Actually, we both had plans to ask the other but Combeferre was quicker. He built a blanket fort for us and switched on his star-light. It looked so pretty! We had wine and cheese and then he asked me. No big speech, just a simple statement that he doesn’t want to be without me anymore, that he loves me as a friend, a lover, a partner, a companion, a boyfriend. Of course I said yes. With lots of tears and kisses and so much sex.”

“So much,” Combeferre laughed. “How about you?”

“Oh, it was really romantic,” the bride said. “We also did it in private, like you guys. We had dinner at our favourite restaurant before and when we came back home, the entire flat was lit with fairy lights. He kneeled down and asked me very traditionally. I said yes, and, you guessed it: tears, kisses, sex. It was amazing.”

“That sounds so great,” Courfeyrac smiled. “Lights seem to be a great engagement-equipment.”

“They truly are,” the man smiled. “We’re heading off now, we’ve tried all the cakes. Thank you for your story, it was really sweet. You two look so in love. Congratulations.”

Courfeyrac and Combeferre congratulated them as well and waved their goodbyes as the couple left the café.

“They were sweet,” Combeferre smiled and took a sip from his coffee.

“They really were. I feel bad for lying to them.”

“So do I.”

By the end of the tasting, Courfeyrac was stuffed with cake and had plenty of fantasies for tonight – and the perfect cake for Marius.

He had talked to Marius and arranged to meet him the next evening so they could discuss the cake chart. Combeferre was at the hospital, so he couldn’t join them.

At night, while Courfeyrac lay under a pile of blankets, he kept fiddling with the ring on his finger. Somehow, he had forgotten to give the engagement ring back to Combeferre. And now, being alone at night, images of weddings, dances and kissing cake frosting off Combeferre’s lips flooded his mind. Only one night more, he promised himself to finally come clean about his feelings. At least admit it out loud to himself. So here he was, a ring on his finger the whisper of “I’m in love with Combeferre” on his lips.

*

“So how was the cake tasting?” Marius asked once he lay next to Courfeyrac on the sofa, happily eating a biscuit.

“Hard. The cakes were so so good.” Courfeyrac curled up around his friend. “Hey, remember when I told you that there are issues I gotta work through?”

“Mhm, I do.” He smiled and ran his hand through Courfeyrac’s curls.

“I have… I’ve… well, at least I admitted it to myself. It’s scary to say it out loud but I have to.” He snuggled closer and kissed his cheek. “I am very much in love with Combeferre. Like, really. Romantically. Sexually.”

Marius sighed and kept playing with his hair. “Yeah, that’s quite something. I know now why you couldn’t talk to Enjolras or Combeferre about it. What do you plan on doing?”

“Wait it out. Sooner or later, those feelings will vanish. I will not want to kiss Combeferre anymore, I will not want to curl up next to him and listen to his heartbeat while he plays with my hair and tells me he loves me.”

“Sounds totally possible, Courfeyrac, so possible. You can’t just fall out of love that easily. Sooner or later, you’ll crash and burn. Especially since you live with him. And because you’re you! I’m not telling you to tell him or flirt with him. I’m just saying thank you for trusting me.”

Courfeyrac smiled. “Thank you for not lecturing me.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


	4. Wedding Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Courfeyrac finally came to terms with feelings for Combeferre, his life has become at least a little easier. That was, until he suspected that Combeferre might be harbouring feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Please enjoy and maybe visit me on [tumblr](http://mariuspondmercy.tumblr.com/)

Courfeyrac popped a single piece of popcorn into his mouth while he waited for Enjolras to come back from the kitchen. Combeferre was on a late night shift, and Enjolras had insisted the two of them would meet for a movie night. Well, meet. They lived together and usually hung out in the evenings but Enjolras had officially asked per text message. Sometimes he did that, when it was especially important to him that they’d spend the evening together. So Courfeyrac had of course answered him that he was obviously up for a movie night.

So now he was curled up on the sofa, fluffy socks and cozy jumper a must. Enjolras was in much the same attire when he joined Courfeyrac on the sofa and under the blanket. He passed his friend a lemonade and snuggled closer.

“I already picked a movie,” Enjolras announced.

“I think you accidentally chose a different one. Or Netflix fucked up, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t choose a romcom.”

“Oh, I did choose a romcom,” Enjolras chuckled. “I know you know that I hate these stupid heterosexual misunderstandings. But maybe a stupid heterosexual misunderstanding along the lines of _I cannot confess my love to you for various reasons_ is the thing we need right now.”

Courfeyrac choked on his lemonade and looked over at his friend. Enjolras was the picture of pure innocence, happily chewing some popcorn. Had he…?

No, that was impossible. Courfeyrac had done everything in his power to conceal his feelings for Combeferre, even after he had admitted them to Marius. Surprisingly, after telling Marius, it had all become a lot easier. 

“Plus, you really don’t have to think when watching these stupid movies,” Enjolras added.

“That’s true,” Courfeyrac nodded. “No other reason?”

“What do you mean? Nah, I just didn’t feel like watching some show where we have to think too much. My day was exhausting and I just want to curl up and snuggle.”

“With a movie you hate?”

“A genre I hate, nonetheless, but it’s not too bad. At least the movie isn’t full of white people.”

“That’s true.” Courfeyrac sighed and ran his fingers through Enjolras curls. Enjolras’ behaviour gave him collywobbles, he couldn’t help it.

But since his darling friend didn’t hint towards any feelings he might harbour towards Combeferre, Courfeyrac was able to let go off his uneasiness halfway through the movie. In a way, Enjolras had been right – at least you didn’t have to think during the movie. They made fun of the stupidity of the romantic leads, of their constant misunderstandings and the miscommunication. It turned out to be an amazing evening, like every evening with Enjolras. Courfeyrac simply loved his friend and he knew he was just as loved.

Since it was important for Courfeyrac to be spending quality one-on-one time with all his friends, he found himself on a coffee date with Combeferre a few days after the curious movie night with Enjolras.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” Combeferre apologised with a smile.

Damn that smile, Courfeyrac thought to himself, as his stomach began to stutter and his heart beat longingly in his chest.

“Busy day at work?”

Combeferre nodded as he plopped down into the comfortable arm chair at the window. “Yeah. We told you about that one case where a kid got his leg broken in a refugee camp and no one wanted to take responsibility?”

Courfeyrac still vividly remember how livid Enjolras and Combeferre had been, as it was suspected that one of the paramedics at the camp had done a poor job in patching the kid up.

“Turns out the break was treated insufficiently so now we can officially sue the paramedic.”

“And the kid?”

“Will forever have a limp,” Combeferre sighed. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey,” Courfeyrac tried to scoot his chair a bit closer, but it was too heavy. He decided to sit on Combeferre’s armrest instead. “You did everything you could.” He squeezed this friend’s shoulder softly. Courfeyrac knew exactly how defeated Combeferre felt, how guilty, even though none of it was his fault.

“I just… Ugh!” Combeferre leaned back his head and looked up at Courfeyrac, his gaze slightly unfocused.

“I know. I know, Combeferre. I know you would want to be there. So why don’t you, hm? I’m sure they always need good doctors. And you’re an amazing doctor, so go for it! Well, at least look into it and talk to your boss and Enjolras about it. Go where the people need you.” As much as it would break his heart to see Combeferre go, Courfeyrac knew it was important to his friend. It would be the right thing to do.

“Maybe,” Combeferre sighed and squeezed Courfeyrac’s hand, “you’re right, and I should really look into it once I’m home.”

“I know you would love it.” Courfeyrac kissed his forehead, and if he let his lips longer a moment longer than appropriate, he hoped Combeferre didn’t notice. “Shall I go and grab a drink for you? As always? And….” He cocked his head and studied Combeferre, glasses still in his lap and eyes tired. “And a strawberry parfait and a brownie. I’m getting one of those to-die-for Sunshine Clouds and you may steal it from me.”

“I love Sunshine Clouds. Remember when Enjolras tried to make them for my birthday?” Combeferre chuckled.

Courfeyrac laughed. “To this day I have no idea what the hell happened.”

“He tried though and that’s all that matters.”

“Exactly. So I’m gonna get them for you to steal cause stolen food always tastes better.”

“Thank you,” Combeferre genuinely smiled.

Courfeyrac squeezed his shoulder again before getting up to buy their sweets and coffees. He was certain that it would be a good thing for Combeferre to work in a refugee camp. Courfeyrac was certain that their law firm could arrange a transfer. There were plenty of camps within Paris, and it would make Combeferre so happy. Now, it really didn’t matter if that meant Courfeyrac would see less of Combeferre, as long as he was happier and smiled more.

Courfeyrac came back soon and set down the tray on the small table. He smiled softly as he caught Combeferre staring out the window, following some rain drops with his gaze.

“Rain drop race?”

Combeferre nodded. “Rain drop race. My drop is losing.”

“That’s alright. Your life is winning.”

Laughing, Combeferre tore his gaze away from the window. “Mhh, Sunshine Clouds!” He quickly grabbed one and broke it in two, handing one half to Courfeyrac before devouring the second one himself.

Courfeyrac smiled softly. Any and every happiness on Combeferre’s face made Courfeyrac’s heart melt in a puddle of sap and love. Yes, there was no denying it - he loved Combeferre from head to toe, from France to the Philippines, and from the deepest point of Mariana Trench to the peak of the Mount Everest.

“How was your evening with Enjolras yesterday? I got home so late from the conference, neither of you were awake.”

“Oh, it was great! We cooked together and ate ice cream,” he frowned, “and then we watched a romcom. Enjolras chose it.”

Courfeyrac wasn’t entirely sure if his heart stopped beating or tried to escape through his throat. Did that…? Did Enjolras…?

“Yeah, we watched one the other day, too. Enjolras’ choice.”

Courfeyrac saw Combeferre’s eyes widen, maybe in realisation, maybe in confusion. He didn’t dare to dream, not yet.

“Weird, huh?” Combeferre dropped his gaze and took a sip of his coffee. “Oh god, you got me one with white chocolate. So good, just what I needed.”

“I know you well. You’re my best friend after all. Plus, I can see the weariness in your eyes. When you get home, you gotta promise me to give Enjolras a long hug, then take a hot bath, then a nap.”

Combeferre smiled softly. “I promise. Cross my heart. You promise me to be back home early tonight so we three can watch a movie together, alright?”

“I’ll try my best. It’s just… Really stressful at work right now, with the Panama Papers and all. I’ve got the entire week around Marius’ wedding off. We need to prepare so much and the poor boy is already stressed out.”

“I know. I had lunch with Cosette the other day and she’s so excited and so happy. I never knew a wedding was this stressful!”

“I know right? That’s why I’ve got the week off.”

“It’s good, you’re a good friend. Marius can be happy to have you and your support.”

“Yep,” Courfeyrac grinned, “I’m an excellent friend. How else was I able to secure both you and Enjolras for decades now?”

Combeferre chuckled and squeezed his hand. “It’s your extraordinary charm and your curly hair. That’s why I’m friend with both of you. The hair.”

“I knew it!” Courfeyrac laughed out loud before popping a piece of his brownie into his mouth. “The hair and our cuddling-abilities.”

“They are just amazing. So…” Combeferre averted his gaze and ripped tiny pieces off his treat.

“So?” Courfeyrac softly prompted him.

“So during the wedding, you’re the best man, and you’ll hold a speech. Have you written it already?”

Courfeyrac nodded. “I have, yes. Shortly after Marius asked me to be his best man. Éponine and I are gonna get together on Saturday to work on our photo presentation. It’s gonna be so sappy.”

Courfeyrac couldn’t shake off the feeling that Combeferre had initially wanted to ask something entirely else but chose not to in the last second. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

“I’m just hoping you’ll make Marius cry.”

“Combeferre!” Courfeyrac giggled softly.

“Sorry, I mean it in the nicest way possible. I want him to be happy and touched. We know how easily he cries, we know how emotional he is.”

“I know. I’m probably gonna cry during my speech. That’s alright though. That’s how it should be. Weddings are highly emotional. I’m sure even Éponine’s gonna get a little teary.”

Combeferre smiled. “You’re nervous about your speech, aren’t you?” He softly squeezed Courfeyrac’s hand. “You don’t have to be. I’m sure Marius will love your speech.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Courfeyrac was terrified. He knew he wasn’t as good an orator as Enjolras; he was afraid he couldn’t convey his emotions, all he felt about Marius and Cosette, about their love.

“Courfeyrac,” Combeferre shifted and softly cupped his face. Courfeyrac prayed his heart didn’t beat loud enough for his friend to hear. “I know you better than I know myself.”

With a soft sight, Courfeyrac practically melted into Combeferre’s touch, into his words, into the little stroke of Combeferre’s thumb over his cheekbone. The words were the beginning of at least three recent frisky fantasies Courfeyrac had nursed those past few weeks.

“And because I know you so well, I know that you’ll do an amazing job. You love Marius, right?” Courfeyrac nodded in confirmation. “You love me, too. And you love Enjolras. You always find the right words. You know how to charm, how to love. You’re a journalist, you know how to use language. And if all else fails: Marius loves you deeply. He loves you so much and whatever you say, it will be perfect. Understood?”

“Understood. You’re right. Marius…”

“Marius adores the shit out of you. You’re his brother and your speech will be amazing.”

“But will everyone else think so?”

“Yes,” Combeferre smiled softly and kissed his forehead. “If you get nervous, we do it like in school: you look at me or at Enjolras and talk to us. Promise?”

“Promise.” Courfeyrac sighed, feeling much more at ease. If that was Combeferre’s words or Combeferre’s touch – Courfeyrac wasn’t sure about which soothed him more. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” With a last kiss to the tip of his nose, Combeferre drew back his hands and smiled at Courfeyrac.

His heart did a somersault, seeing his own love-struck dopiness mirrored on Combeferre’s face. Maybe Enjolras’ romcom movie night had been a blessing after all. His thought was confirmed when Combeferre quickly dropped his gaze and took a sip of his coffee.

“Why don’t you just tell Marius what you would tell me at my wedding?” Combeferre asked.

“You mean _I Do_?”

Courfeyrac revelled in how quickly Combeferre’s eyes snapped up, the way he coughed when he choked on his coffee.

“Excuse me?”

Laughing, Courfeyrac leaned back in his chair. “Technically, we never called off our fake engagement. So, seeing as we’re engaged, my words at your wedding would be _I Do_. But I get Enjolras as my best man. You may take Joly.”

“What? No way! I’m having Enjolras! You can take Marius.”

“But Marius has to be our first child’s godfather.”

“Courfeyrac,” Combeferre sighed, looking at him over the frame of his glasses, “I hope you’re not proposing to have our child baptised. An agnostic whose parents are Muslims and an atheist whose mother is Buddhist… yeah no. So you take Marius and I get Enjolras.”

“Why can’t we both have Enjolras?” Courfeyrac pouted, looking up at Combeferre through his lashes.

Combeferre rolled his eyes. “Okay, we can both have Enjolras as our best man. But then I get to choose the rings.”

“What? How is that even… that makes no sense!” Courfeyrac threw his hands in the air, eliciting a chuckle from his friend.

“I have a better taste in that than you, we both know that.”

“Well, yeah, but maybe you just give me Enjolras and then you’re allowed to choose the rings.”

“No way, I’m never giving up on him! He’s like my brother! Okay, we decide on the rings together.”

“Thank you,” Courfeyrac beamed. Were they really just talking about their wedding? Was Combeferre really playing along? He had such a hard time believing this was happening but Courfeyrac decided to just go with it. “Do you think weddings are officiated in the planetarium?”

“Why?”

“Because you asked me to marry you under fake stars, so I want to tie the knot under fake stars.”

“We could just marry at night,” Combeferre shrugged his shoulders, “on a plain field, only with a few torches so there’s not so much light pollution. We can have a small tent set up and have dinner with everyone and at dusk, we can light those paper lanterns. You know, the ones you love so much, the ones from _Tangled._ And then, once it’s really dark and the stars are out, we get married under the watchful eyes of Orion, Cassiopeia and Aquila.”

Courfeyrac knew he had this dopey smile on his face. The one that must surely tell Combeferre just how in love he actually was.

“I would really like to marry you like that,” Courfeyrac whispered.

“I would really like to marry you like that, too,” Combeferre whispered back.

For a moment, Courfeyrac let his gaze linger on the small, maybe hopeful, smile on Combeferre’s lips, before he tore his eyes away and clutched his mug.

“I think if you’re being honest and speak from your heart, Marius will love your best man’s speech. You don’t need to worry so much. Be true.”

“I’ll be true.”

*

Courfeyrac brushed some imaginary dust off Marius’ shoulders and straightened his lapels, exhaling a deep sigh.

“You’ve grown up so fast. It seems like just yesterday that Bahorel found you wandering the streets, a bag with your name on it. Look at you now. You have a much better fashion sense, I’m so proud. Though that’s mostly my doing.”

Marius smiled softly. “You’re getting sappy, Courfeyrac. It’s just a wedding, nothing will change. Well, everything will change. Cosette’s last name, the way she refers to me…”

“Why didn’t you take her last name though?”

“We talked about that a lot. About keeping our respective names or me changing mine. I was ready to change my name to Marius Fauchelevent but Cosette decided that she’d rather take my last name. She said it felt more right,” Marius smiled softly. “We really just want to have the same last name, to feel like a family. Neither of us had one, so it’s amazing. And we’re welcoming you and all our friends into the little family we are.”

Courfeyrac smiled softly. “You’re gonna be so happy, the two of you.”

“I know,” Marius nodded. “I really know. I’m only a little nervous. But… I’m secure enough in our relationship. It’s like with our friendship. I just… I know, you know?”

Chuckling a little, Courfeyrac nodded. It filled him with warmth; Marius had come so far. This insecure young man, scared to be too loud, too brash, scared that his friends only pretended to like him. Now here he was, knowing Courfeyrac loved him, knowing Cosette did, too.

“I am so proud, Marius. I’m gonna cry.”

“I know. Cosette and I have a bet on when you’ll start crying but I won’t tell you our times, otherwise you’ll sabotage us,” Marius laughed.

“You’re a minx!” Courfeyrac kissed his cheek. “Okay, you’re ready for your wedding now. We have five minutes to go. Wedding vows?”

Marius tapped against his head and his heart. “In there, from here.”

“Rings?”

“Should be with you.”

“Are with me,” Courfeyrac nodded and pulled out the small box to show it to Marius.

“Good. Can I see them once more, please?” Marius bounced on the heels of his feet, smiling sheepishly.

“Of course!” Courfeyrac quickly opened the box and showed him the wedding rings. He had to giggle softly at Marius’ awestruck expression. “Save that face for when you see your bride.”

“Don’t remind me, I’m gonna cry so much the second she starts walking down the aisle.”

“You better!” Courfeyrac kissed his cheek and carefully slipped the box back into his suit’s pocket. “Okay, now: take a deep breath.” Marius complied and Courfeyrac breathed with him. “Good. That was more for me than you anyway.”

He pulled his friend into a crushing embrace, feeling Marius relax against him.  A knock on the door disturbed their few seconds of peace.

“Come in,” Marius said, face still pressed against Courfeyrac’s curls.

“Hey,” Combeferre poked his head around the corner, “the priest is ready to start the wedding.”

Courfeyrac detangled himself from Marius and smiled at Combeferre. “This young man here is ready. I’m not quite ready to let him leave the nest.”

“He’s been living with Cosette for two years now.”

“I know!” Courfeyrac sighed and pouted at Combeferre. “But it’s still hard to see him so grown up.”

“I’m right here, guys,” Marius laughed. “I’m ready. So ready. I’m gonna marry Cosette now!” He let go of Courfeyrac and beamed at both men.

Courfeyrac clutched his heart in mock agony. “My small son, all grown up, just look at him,” Courfeyrac gestured at Marius from head to toe.

“Yes, poor you,” Combeferre smiled softly. “I’ll indulge you and grant you one hug to make you feel better about letting Marius go.”

Not even giving him the chance to finish uttering his words, Courfeyrac quickly hugged his friend. He faintly heard Marius snort, but couldn’t care less. Sure, he got hugged by Combeferre on a daily basis – more than once, even – but nothing quite compared to being hugged when you felt down and were elated at the same time.

“Guys, not to interrupt, but I think I want my best man with me when I get married now.”

Combeferre drew back from Courfeyrac and quickly dropped a kiss to his forehead. “I think your best man is ready to send you off now. Talk to you guys after the wedding. Marius, all my best already.” he squeezed Marius’ shoulder affectionately before he left the small room.

“Don’t you dare throw me that look, Pontmercy,” Courfeyrac warned, a small smile playing around his lips.

“I’m not saying anything, nothing at all.”

“Shut up and let’s get you married.”

The second Cosette walked down the aisle, her father at her side, Marius turned into a mess of emotions. He was giddy, nervous, close to crying. Courfeyrac could see it all in his eyes, in the way he held himself. He carefully placed a hand on his friend’s arm and was rewarded with a blinding smile. When Cosette stopped next to Marius, Courfeyrac could feel the excitement and love radiating off them. If he sneaked a glance at Combeferre in that moment, no one needed to know.

Except… except that Combeferre was looking right back at him, a dazed smile on his lips. When Combeferre noticed Courfeyrac’s gaze, however, he quickly ducked his head in shy embarrassment. Yet Courfeyrac couldn’t help but notice Combeferre looking over at him during Marius’ and Cosette’s vows. Maybe today could be the day. He had already admitted it to himself and Marius. The next logical step – or rather, person – would be Combeferre. Judging by the way Combeferre looked at him, Courfeyrac was fairly certain the outcome would not, as feared, be disaster, death and decay. With a last smile to Combeferre, Courfeyrac shifted his attention back to the bride and groom.

His mood had already been over the moon, but now? Now Courfeyrac felt like he just won France’s Next Top Model (alternatively, as if he had just won the Eurovision, but compared to his singing ability, he knew he was more likely to win the other show).

*

The first dance belonged to the happy couple themselves. Courfeyrac watched in awe, not only at how lovely Cosette’s dress swung, but also at Marius’ dancing talents. Classes sure had paid off, no matter how nervous Marius had been. When the dance was finished, Valjean took over. A traditional father-daughter dance was what Cosette had always wanted, just as much as Marius had wanted to dance with his mother or father. The only family left, his grandfather and his aunt, had been invited to the wedding but chosen not to appear. The negative response had caused Marius to break down, because even though he’d never had a happy childhood, he had hoped his grandfather would love him enough to come to his wedding. He suspected it was mostly the doing of his aunt, someone who had never liked him, not even a little bit.

Marius smiled softly as Valjean took Cosette’s hand after squeezing his newly-won son-in-law’s shoulder. Before Marius could slip off the dance floor though, Musichetta had already swooped in. She gently took his hand and kissed his cheek. Courfeyrac could see the surprise in Marius’ eyes, but it was soon replaced by utter gratitude. After a short while, Éponine softly asked Musichetta if she might take over to dance with her brother-in-law. Gavroche followed next, loudly proclaiming that he’s happy to call him his brother but he couldn’t dance to save his life. At that, Marius simply laughed.

Shortly before the song was over, Courfeyrac was the last to dance with Marius, as his brother in arms.

“Whose idea was this?” Marius whispered.

“Don’t tell her I told you, but it was Éponine’s idea.”

“I won’t tell. Thank you.”

“Of course. You’re my brother and I love you.”

“You truly do. I love you, too,” Marius smiled and kissed his cheek.

When the song ended, Courfeyrac hugged him tight before retreating back to where Combeferre and Enjolras stood. He leaned against Combeferre and sighed deeply.

Combeferre slipped his arm around Courfeyrac’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Cake and coffee is gonna start in ten minutes. You can eat your feelings now.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “I’m gonna wait for Bossuet. It’s a cake buffet after all and being near Bossuet at a buffet means that something is gonna go wrong. And this suit is way too nice to be ruined by cake.”

“It truly is nice. You look very dashing.”

“Dashing, huh?” Courfeyrac grinned.

“Handsome, even.”

“You two, I swear,” Enjolras sighed. “You look both very handsome and I’m leaving you now to eat my feelings.”

“Good feelings or bad feelings?” Combeferre inquired.

“Mushy feelings,” Enjolras laughed. “I’ve grown too attached to Cosette and Marius. If you two ever marry, please just marry each other so I don’t have to go through this emotional turmoil twice.”

Courfeyrac coughed suddenly. “Uhm… technically we’re fake-engaged so if you want to come to a fake-wedding, feel free to host us one.”

He hoped to God that Combeferre didn’t notice how flustered he was, how hard his heart was beating against his chest.

“I would not want to be in charge of your wedding. Trust me. No matter how fake it is. If you excuse me, I’ll eat my good and mushy feelings now.” The wink and smirk on Enjolras’ face as he left only confirmed Courfeyrac’s wildest assumptions.

Combeferre seemed very unfazed by the whole exchange, gently smiling down at Courfeyrac. “We’re gonna dance after dinner, right?”

“You’d think I’d not dance with my fake-fiancé? Of course we’ll dance.”

“Not just fake-dance?” Combeferre laughed.

“No, real dancing. With holding hands and your hand… I don’t know. The taller person should lead, right? So your hand should be on my hip.”

“That means yours should be on my shoulder but you’re not tall enough for that to be comfortable.”

Courfeyrac smiled gently. “That, my friend, is very true.”

“Your best-man-speech is afterwards, right?”

“Yes, when everyone is kinda sedated from really amazing cake. Oh, I am so excited for the cake! We tried two of the ones they have now. You really have to give it to Cosette and Marius for actually getting ten cakes. That’s nearly a whole cake per person.”

“Yes, and it looks like Enjolras is eating his share already,” Combeferre grinned.

Courfeyrac looked over at where Enjolras stood at the buffet, clearly occupied with two plates and four slices of cake, contemplating which other cake he should try right now.

“I love this man,” Courfeyrac laughed.

“As do I,” Combeferre nodded. “Alright, Bossuet is sitting. He’s got… yes, cake on his tie but apart from that everything looks clean. I’m surprised. Let’s get cake? You’re sitting between me and Marius, right?”

Courfeyrac pulled a face and nodded. “Right. It was… such a pain in the ass, the seating. Marius wanted to sit next to Éponine but Cosette also wanted to sit next to Éponine and also next to Marius and next to Valjean. Horrible. I’m glad they’ve sorted it out. Weddings are so complicated. Remind me to only ever have fake-weddings. They come with all the perks, such as cake tasting.”

“And draw-backs, such as actually paying for stuff,” Combeferre laughed. “C’mon, let’s get cake and sit down, alright?”

“Gladly.” Courfeyrac took Combeferre’s hand in his and dragged him towards the buffet gently.

He caught Marius’ eye, who beamed at him and cast a quick glance down to their linked hands. Courfeyrac stuck out his tongue at his friends, which caused Marius to laugh into his tea. In turn, Courfeyrac laughed as well, earning him a confused glance from Combeferre.

“Don’t worry,” Courfeyrac assured him, “let’s get cake.”

Between the two of them, they got every piece of cake offered, their four plates overflowing with sweet desserts.

The atmosphere was glowing, exuberant and happy. Courfeyrac and Combeferre fed each other cake, grinning and laughing through the ordeal. It felt good to be so close to his love, especially since he could excuse his behaviour with the wedding-high everyone seemed to be on. Being so playful with Combeferre also distracted Courfeyrac from the impending doom that was his speech. He felt a lot more confident in giving it than a few weeks ago, but he was still scared that he’d fuck up and disappoint Marius. There was nothing in this world he’d want less than to see his friend upset. Courfeyrac was sure Marius expected great things, even though he’d told him time and time again that he really didn’t need a big speech.

After nearly two hours, the cake-eating slowed down immensely. Combeferre nudged Courfeyrac, giving him the look that could only mean _go ahead and give your speech_. Courfeyrac obeyed, albeit reluctant to part with Combeferre’s warm hand on his thigh, and stood up.

“Sorry to drag you out of your after-dinner-dip, guys, but this is the best opportunity to deliver my best man’s speech. ‘Cause I’m the best man in general, we all know that. But I’m also the best man of this gorgeous human here.” He softly gripped Marius’ shoulder. “I like to tell different stories of how I met Marius. One of them is that he chose the urinal right next to mine at the Musain and started to talk to me. That’s obviously not our first-time-meeting story, but it’s a true story nonetheless. Why am I telling you that? ‘Cause it’s the first time I ever heard about Cosette. Yes, I’m really sorry, Cosette, I heard about you while having my penis in my hand. Trust me, it’s more awkward for you than for me.”

His friends started laughing while Marius turned bright red. Most of the guests already knew the story, but it was still something Courfeyrac loved to tease Marius with. Plus, he knew Cosette knew, and he knew that she teased her boyfriend – husband – with it, too.

“I can safely say I know Cosette very intimately,” Courfeyrac smirked. “Anyway, back on track. I was going to tell you all the wonderful things about Marius. Problem is: you all know them. You all know that Marius kept visiting his old friend until the very end. You all know that he once took in a plant even Jehan couldn’t rescue and nursed it back to health with the utmost dedication. Marius is such a gentle person and such a loving friend. I am so so so infinitely glad that Cosette can live up to you and your kindness. I never actually believed in soulmates until I met you as a couple for the first time.” Courfeyrac spared a quick thought to Combeferre and the feeling that maybe soulmates weren’t as uncommon in his life as he had once supposed.

“You two make love seem so easy and perfect. It’s amazing how I can feel your love by just being in the same room as you.” He took a deep breath. “Shit, I’m about to cry.”

“It’s okay,” Cosette smiled, “Marius is crying, too.”

Courfeyrac chuckled, soft tears spilling over. “You have no idea how much I love you guys, how much hope and light you bring.” He hugged Marius tight, who was indeed already crying, hiccups included.

“Thank you,” Marius mumbled.

“Everything for you.” Courfeyrac kissed his cheek, his forehead, the tip of his nose before moving to hug Cosette as well.

It was a bit awkward, as Cosette was still sitting, but Courfeyrac didn’t mind I much and neither did Cosette. Courfeyrac was glad when Jehan stood up and exclaimed that it really was time for presents and some music now. At least that way he could sit down and calm himself down a little. As soon as Marius and Cosette were in the middle of the room to receive their first present – their honeymoon to Korea for two weeks so Cosette can finally visit her birth country, followed by a six week tour through Australia, everything paid for by Jean Valjean – Combeferre slid into the seat next to Courfeyrac.

“That was a lovely speech,” Combeferre smiled at him, grasping his hand.

“Thank you. Look at how happy they are.”

Combeferre smiled and nodded, observing the happy couple with a soft smile on his lips. As always, Courfeyrac was completely mesmerized by his crush. Combeferre looked so happy, nearly serene, in the way he was observing their friends.

“Let’s join the crowd and see their reactions to the presents?” Combeferre smiled at Courfeyrac, and Courfeyrac practically swooned.

His heart started pounding, he felt his smile grow wider, and he felt like the literal embodiment of the heart-eyes-emoji. Which, coincidentally, was the emoji he used for Combeferre in his phone. (Next to the kiss-emoji as well as the sunglass-emoji, of course.)

Once they joined all their friends, Courfeyrac was surprised when Combeferre hugged him from behind, placing his chin on the top of Courfeyrac’s head. Thanking his lucky stars, Courfeyrac leaned back slightly, meeting Combeferre’s firm chest.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Courfeyrac whispered, his heart simultaneously in his stomach and his throat.

“I know.” Combeferre dropped a quick kiss into his hair. “But not here, not now, not on their wedding day. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Courfeyrac nodded, his stomach doing a somersault, fireworks exploding in his mind.

Could this really mean what he thought it meant?


	5. At Long Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! But here we are, technically the last chapter, only the epilogue is to follow!

The day after the wedding, Courfeyrac woke up blinking into the light. The thought _Just like Simba_ crossed his mind before he snuggled back into his pillow. Or rather, Combeferre’s pillow. Courfeyrac was laying on his stomach, Enjolras’ arm over his back.

After the wedding, the drinks, the dancing – the looks Combeferre had thrown him -, Courfeyrac had been pretty upset. Marius, his darling Marius, the small duck he had adopted years ago, was finally grown up. Of course, Courfeyrac did not see Marius as some helpless duckling. That man was capable of way more than people gave him credit for. Plus, he’d been living with Cosette for two years now, they’d been a couple for four. But Courfeyrac was weirdly protective of his friend, even though Marius might be the friend who needed the least protection.

Either way, Courfeyrac had been incredibly emotional after the wedding and sending Marius and Cosette off to their honeymoon. So Enjolras had suggested to build a blanket nest and make it big enough for the three of them. Cuddling always helped, no matter the situation. Whether it was the first bad grade Enjolras had gotten in his Politics class, or the first Cassava Cake Courfeyrac had burnt, or the first time Combeferre had overslept and missed and important class. Cuddling had always been their method of coping. So the night – or early morning – had ended in the three of them sharing Combeferre’s bed. It was by far the biggest and softest bed in the flat, so that one was a no brainer.

Courfeyrac scooted a little closer to Enjolras, inhaling both the scent of alcohol and freshly brewed coffee. That meant Combeferre was already up and going. As always. Combeferre was an early hangover-riser. Even though they went to bed at 4am, Combeferre probably woke up at 8am and busied himself.

“Awake?” Courfeyrac nudged Enjolras’ cheek with his nose. “Awake?”

“Noooo, Courfeyrac, nooo… let me sleep. My head hurts a little.” Enjolras snuggled closer and kissed his cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. ‘t was comfy. I was sandwiched between my two favourite guys in the world and I get to wake up to one of those guys making coffee and the other guy looking cute.”

“The difference between the two guys is that you only want to kiss one of us senselessly.”

Courfeyrac hummed and tugged on Enjolras’ curls. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not mean. I’m supportive. He’s up and about, making coffee. I want to sleep. So, what are you waiting for? Go talk to him. Sleepy Courf is the cutest Courf. Woo him. Seduce him. No, wait.” Enjolras scrunched his nose and kissed Courfeyrac’s cheek. “Don’t seduce him, please. Not while I’m at home, alright?”

“Enjolras, please. I’m not gonna seduce him.”

“No, but you will go out there now, looking cute, being topless, drinking coffee with him. Cause I wanna sleep and I can’t sleep with you babbling next to me.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “Alright, I got it. Say… have you had a similar talk with Combeferre?”

Enjolras nodded softly. “Yeah. The morning of the wedding, while you were with Marius. So do me one favour: stop pining. Do something. Be happy.”

“Trying my best.” He kissed Enjolras’ forehead. “Thank you. Love you.”

“Love you, too, darling. Off you pop. Don’t wake me for another 90 minutes, but after that I expect happy faces, coffee, and croissants.”

With a last kiss to Enjolras’ hair, Courfeyrac got out of bed and padded into the kitchen. As suspected, Combeferre sat at the breakfast bar, reading the news on his tablet while sipping on his coffee. He looked up and smiled softly at Courfeyrac.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, moonlight.” Courfeyrac yawned and stretched a little. And if he stretched just to show off his topless body to Combeferre – so sue him.

Courfeyrac filled his favourite mug with coffee and sat down opposite of Combeferre, who, in the meantime, had put down his tablet.

“Enjolras still asleep?”

“Yeah. Said not to wake him for another 90 minutes. I think he expects breakfast. Bless him, he was really tipsy yesterday. Nearly drunk. It was cute.”

“He’s such a cuddly drunk,” Combeferre grinned.

“Well, he sat on your lap for like the last two hours telling you how much he loves you while stroking your face.”

Combeferre laughed softly. “It made me so happy.”

“I loved that it made you guys so happy. We should look through all the photos. I can remember maybe 20% of the photos I took and those ones are great. At least in my mind.”

“I absolutely agree,” Combeferre nodded. “But we need to talk first. Are you awake and comfortable enough?”

“Is this a breakfast bar or a sofa conversation?”

“Breakfast bar.”

Courfeyrac nodded softly, dread settling upon him. Breakfast bar conversations were never fun. They were serious, important. Not that talking about their future relationship wasn’t important or serious, but Courfeyrac had hoped it would be more of a sofa conversation. Something light, something they were looking forward to, something fun. Now Courfeyrac even questioned if Combeferre harboured any feelings him at all.

“Hey.” Combeferre softly took Courfeyrac’s hand in his and squeezed them. “Not that face. It’s… remember that I really want to help where I’m needed?”

Courfeyrac nodded softly. “Of course. We talked about you maybe going to a refugee camp.”

“Exactly. And I looked a bit more into it. I want to apply this week, but I don’t know where I might end up. Might be in Paris, just outside Paris, maybe France, maybe not. Before I don’t know where I’ll go, I don’t want to start anything.”

Combeferre sighed, letting go of Courfeyrac’s hands.

“Alright.” Courfeyrac took a deep breath. “Alright. So… I’m… I’m really happy that you want to help and I support you fully. I know how important it is to you. You are an amazing doctor and I know that they’ll be so pleased to have you, to work with you. Wherever you are.”

“Thank you.” Combeferre took a deep breath. “I’m glad I have your support. And… when I know where I’ll go, which will be in about a month, then we can think of what to do. If… uhm… if you still want me then.”

“Of course I’ll want you!” Courfeyrac was shocked to see how Combeferre’s face fell at the mere thought of Courfeyrac not waiting for him.

It broke his heart. Everything did. Not being able to be with Combeferre for who knew how long!

“What if you won’t stay in France?” Courfeyrac asked, voice small.

“I’ll stay at least half a year. I don’t want a long distance relationship, not at first. If we’d been together for a year and then I’d leave, okay. But like this? No. I can’t, I’m sorry. Courfeyrac, I… Jesus, fuck. I want to be with you so badly. I’ve been crushing on you for close to three years now but I wasn’t sure you feel the same. You do though, don’t you?”

Courfeyrac smiled softly. It was heart-balm to know Combeferre had been just as hopelessly in love as he himself was. Well, maybe it wasn’t love yet, maybe not for Combeferre. But if he’d been crushing for three years, then surely they could survive this little bump in the road, too.

“Close to three years? It’s been… well, less than a year for me, but it wasn’t until after we went to the cake tasting that I actually admitted it to myself. I only told Marius so far. Well, and Enjolras but he kinda knew already?”

“He does, yeah. It doesn’t surprise me, he’s super perceptive. I didn’t believe him at first but I tried observing you a bit during meetings and when we hung out. It dawned on me and I tried flirting. You flirted back! But I think we really need to have this talk. It’s important we’re on the same page. Are we on the same page?”

“You mean, hopelessly crushing on each other but agreeing that we need to wait and see what the future brings?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“But… so if you get your placement in a month and then it might take another month or two before you leave… You really think we shouldn’t start anything?”

Combeferre sighed. “Only if I stay in Paris. Even France will be tricky, especially when I’m going to the South. It’s super far away. It’s better this way. I rather live with the knowledge that something amazing is waiting for me, the start of _us_ than be heartbroken in Turkey or Greece. But we have to agree on this.”

It was hard, it truly was. On the one hand, Courfeyrac knew Combeferre was right. It would be very very foolish to start something now only to be torn apart again in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. Courfeyrac was a very physical person. He clung to his partners, he needed the physical comfort – not necessarily sex, even though sex was always amazing, but just hugs and kisses and cuddles on the sofa. He couldn’t give that up for half a year or longer, not so early in a relationship when everything was new and fresh and exciting. On the other hand, Courfeyrac wanted him so badly. He wanted to kiss him right here and now, wanted to wake Enjolras with a smile on his face, telling him that he’d finally made it, that he’d found someone who, for now, felt like _The One_.

“I agree,” Courfeyrac smiled softly. “I agree because the alternative would be heartbreaking and I’m a very selfish person, I don’t wanna go through it. Do you think we could maybe do a little bit though? Not kissing or anything more. Not telling anyone but Enjolras about it. Well, maybe Marius. He’s worried, bless his tiny bright starfish soul. I mean… holding hands?”

“So basically like we always do? Hugging, kisses on the forehead, cuddles?”

“Yeah… I don’t know. Yes but more but also not more?” Courfeyrac swallowed hard. Shit, he could already feel the tears welling up.

“We will find a balance, I promise. I vow to make you as happy as I can, given the circumstances. I’m so so sorry for all of this, but…” His voice broke.

“It’s alright. Do you think Enjolras will be very mad if we come back to bed and snuggle with him?”

“Depends. Do you plan on crying?”

Courfeyrac nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

“So do I. Come on.” Combeferre got up and held out his hand.

Courfeyrac took it and rose from his bar stool only to be pulled into a tight hug by his friend. Combeferre dropped a kiss onto his hair before he drew back and led Courfeyrac back to his bedroom. There they curled up on either side of Enjolras.

“Hey… 90 minutes over?”

“Not yet”, Combeferre whispered. “We just need your comfort.”

“Why? What happened? Why… shit, Courf, are you crying?”

Courfeyrac nodded softly, sobs wracking his body. He couldn’t help it, he was a full-body-crier. It was annoying most of the time. Everything shook and he hiccupped. He envied Combeferre’s silent tears. Enjolras took him into his arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“We decided to have the relationship on hold until I know where the organisation will place me,” Combeferre explained with a strained voice.

Courfeyrac felt Enjolras nod softly. “I think that is very sensible. I’m proud of you both. You’re so strong. So brave. I have very amazing friends who deserve so many cuddles right now.” Enjolras shifted until Courfeyrac could place his head on Enjolras chest and listen to his heartbeat while Combeferre’s fingers were in his hair.

It might not be perfect, even far from perfect, but at least it was something. At least he knew Combeferre liked him romantically. At least there was a silver lining.

*

Five weeks later, Courfeyrac had somehow come to terms with the fact that he was in love with his best friend and his best friend with him, but that they simply couldn’t be together – yet. Or maybe never. Combeferre should get details on his placement any day now. He has been on edge for the past week, Courfeyrac knew as much. They were very honest with each other, because only then could this whole thing work. So whenever Courfeyrac had a hard time with their arrangement, he talked to Combeferre about it. Sometimes to Enjolras as well, because he needed both of his friends. But this evening, Courfeyrac was meeting up with Marius. The poor guy still had a sunburn on his nose from their honeymoon to Korea, and he and Cosette had been home for three weeks now! Luckily it didn’t hurt anymore, it was just flaming red, clashing with his auburn hair. Shutting down his laptop, Courfeyrac grabbed his bag and headed out of the office. He was pretty excited to see Marius, even though he saw his friend twice a week anyway, during meetings. But meeting Marius one-on-one was still very special to him, still very important.

Marius beamed at him as he opened the door and pulled Courfeyrac into a hug, kissing his cheek. Courfeyrac laughed softly and returned the hug before stepping into the flat.

“Cosette is out with Chetta and Éponine, so we’ve got the flat for us.”

“Oh, M Pontmercy, I thought you were happily married? And I am, in fact, unhappily yet happily in love. I doubt an old-fashioned affair is something we’re interested in.”

Marius rolled his eyes. “So still no news on Combeferre’s placement?”

“Nope.” Courfeyrac shook his head and took off his coat and shoes. “Only a matter of days now. Really, he should know by the end of this week. And then… then we’ll see.”

Marius nodded softly and led the way into the kitchen where he made two cups of tea.

“What would you wish for?” Marius handed him his mug and settled down on the sofa, followed by Courfeyrac, who curled up against his friend’s side.

“What do I wish for? Hm. I have no idea. I obviously wish that he gets placed somewhere where he’ll be able to help and where his help is really really needed. As a doctor. And that’s where the refugees first come to Europe, which is not France, or at least not Paris. I’m hoping for Spain or maybe the South, so I can pop down for a long weekend to visit him. But mainly I wish for him to be fulfilled and happy.”

Marius smiled softly. “I think that’s all that counts, for you to hope he’s happy. You can skype and call and text. Are you worried that it’ll be different when he comes back?”

Courfeyrac sighed and snuggled closer. “I am fucking afraid. I’m really fucking afraid he’ll fall out of love. But I’m even more afraid that he’ll find someone who is there, who is nice, who comforts him because I doubt it’ll be easy for him to be so far away from everyone. I know he always takes it personally, he always cares with his whole heart about his patients. What if there’s a cute guy who comforts him, jokes with him? What if he still loves me and misses me so much, but finds comfort in someone else?”

“It could happen,” Marius agreed, running his fingers through Courfeyrac’s hair. “I guess that’s something you need to address before he leaves. If he leaves. Are you gonna be exclusive or not? Can you even be exclusive, given you’re not together? I mean, of course you can. You can definitely agree to be exclusive. You’re gonna be together after all, once Combeferre is back. Just talk to him. Communication is key. That’s what you taught me.”

“And I stand by it. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow, I promise. Maybe even when I get back tonight and he’s still awake.”

Marius kissed his forehead. “Good. You’ll see, all your worries will be easily wiped away. It’s gonna be hard though. Have you ever been away from a partner for that long?”

“Yeah.” Courfeyrac nodded lightly. “Back when I was abroad in Dublin for a year. My former girlfriend was in Paris, but we actually split up while I was gone. It was mutual though. We weren’t cut out for a long distance relationship and I realised I didn’t actually miss her that much and she didn’t miss me either. It really wasn’t too bad.”

“That was when Combeferre was in Stockholm and Enjolras was in Vienna, right?”

“Yeah. It was hard without them. I mean, I made many other friends but it was so hard to be there without my brothers. I couldn’t share everything with them! Sure, we skyped frequently and visited each other but… I missed them so much. I only met you after my second semester abroad, otherwise it would’ve been just as hard to be parted from you. I’m glad we all went at the same time though. Both times. That way, each of us could make new experiences and neither was stuck back in Paris.”

He sighed and cuddled closer to Marius. Courfeyrac shifted a bit and placed his head in Marius’ lap. Marius kept playing with his friend’s hair and sometimes softly ran his index finger over the bridge of Courfeyrac’s nose.

“I’m going to miss him so much. He’s my best friend, Marius. And he’ll be experiencing so much. Good and bad things. I want to be there for all of it, but I can’t.”

“Maybe you can visit him. He would love that, don’t you think? Maybe you can take Enjolras as well. He’ll want to visit Combeferre, too.”

“I know. And it would make it less awkward. Imagine I’d go there by myself! I don’t know, I would feel super awkward. I love him, he loves me, but being alone with him in an unfamiliar environment by myself would be… I don’t know. I can’t do that. Spending all my time with him, waiting for him when he’s working, pining. I’d literally be pining all day knowing he loves me. Hell, I’m pining right now! This is so hard. How did you ever manage with Cosette?”

“It was easy with us, really. We saw each other on campus, we made eye-contact, it was awkward. I couldn’t talk to her for weeks but we kept randomly meeting until one day she plucked up the courage to talk to me. Unfortunately, I was so in shock that I nearly choked on my tea. We went on dates, eventually we kissed. I kissed her.” He beamed at him. “I kissed her and she kissed me back. It just worked. It was easy. You said it yourself: Cosette and I are soulmates. It’s the same for you and Combeferre. So whatever you do, however hard you’re pining, you’re soulmates.”

“Do you really believe that?” Courfeyrac whispered.

“Mhm,” Marius hummed as confirmation. “But I’m also the guy who believes in love at first sight. I’m deeply romantic. I believe Cosette and I are soulmates, I believe you and Combeferre are, too. I believe people were created in pairs, that everyone has a soulmate, no matter if they’re romantic or platonic soulmates.”

“How do you even know if someone is your soulmate?”

“You don’t but you do, somehow. Does that make sense? You can be certain of nothing but death in life. I can’t be certain I’ll stay married to Cosette forever but I believe that that’s my future, my truth, because right now it is my truth. Like your truth is that you and Combeferre were made for each other. Hold on to your truth and believe in it.”

Courfeyrac nodded softly and sighed. He fell silent for a bit, listening to Marius occasionally sipping his tea while still playing with Courfeyrac’s hair. He closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling more deeply. When had his life become so complicated yet so easy? It was infuriating because it really was easy. Boy loved boy loved boy back. No homophobia in their families or their friend circle, both out and proud. It could be so easy, so damn fucking easy.

“Should I just kiss him?” Courfeyrac wondered aloud after a while.

“No. You need to ask him first and explain why you want it. Don’t just kiss him out of the blue.”

“What if I don’t kiss him and he comes back and we kiss and it’s weird? Then we were all excited for months only to be let down.”

“Hm.” Marius shifted a little and bend over to kiss Courfeyrac’s forehead. “Oh, hey, it’s okay, you can cry.” He carefully wiped away a few tears which had spilled over silently. “Are you scared that you won’t fit together in the end? And then you wasted your time being hung up on someone with whom it won’t work out?”

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac croaked. “So I could kiss him before he leaves, right? If it’s good, we know we have something amazing waiting for when he comes home. If it’s bad, we know we don’t have to wait. Would that be sensible?”

“I think that would be one of the few sensible things you’ve ever done in your entire life.”

“Should I kiss him then?”

“Talk to him about it. Tell him, you’re scared you’re both building up too much hope, too high expectations which might result in a defeating let-down when he comes back. Tell him you want to kiss him because you want to know that you’ll really work as a couple. You don’t want him to pine after you only to discover after six straining and stressful months that it wasn’t worth the pain.”

Courfeyrac scooted a little higher so he could rest his head on Marius’ chest. “You’re right. I just… I’m so scared, Marius. I’m so so scared.” He took a shaky breath and buried his face in Marius’ shirt.

“Are you scared you will match as friends but not as lovers?” Marius held him closer, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Courfeyrac’s back.

“I’m scared I’ll be a disappointment. I’ve… what if he kisses me and there’s no spark? What if he feels like he can’t end it because we’ve both been pining, because we both love each other? What if he loves me but hates kissing me? What if the kissing is okay but I’m a disappointment in our relationship?” Courfeyrac hiccupped softly and pressed closer to Marius.

“It can happen that the kissing isn’t good at first. So what? Remember what you told me when I confessed that sex with Cosette was sort of not what either of us expected? You told us to talk about it and practice. To learn my own body and hers. I think that applies for you, too, in case the kissing isn’t as you want it. As for the other… why should you be a disappointment?”

“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him. All my other relationships were great but I wasn’t that committed to them. It wasn’t hard to let go off them once it was over. What if I’m not as committed to him? What if he starts dating me and realises that I have too many flaws?”

“He’s known you since you’re six, right? Don’t you think he already knows all your flaws? Don’t you think he loves you with and because of them, even though he might sometimes smile exasperatedly at them? He knows you inside out. There’s nothing that could surprise him. He loves you, the entire you. He knows what he’s getting himself into, don’t you reckon?”

“Probably…”

“it’s okay to be scared, Courfeyrac. But you need to get over that because you two are soulmates. He probably has the same fears as you do. Talk to him, please. That’s really important. He said he loves you. Has he ever lied to you about something so important?”

“No, not ever. He’s really honest and always tells the truth. I want to be with him and I want to kiss him. I need to kiss him before he leaves. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll kiss him. At the fucking airport. If he’s stationed outside of Paris, of course.”

“Of course.” Marius kissed the top of his head. “You okay? In general, I mean.”

“In general, I’m over the moon and really totally perfectly fine. Apart from the Combeferre mess.”

Marius hummed softly and pressed his friend a little closer to his chest. Courfeyrac sighed and went pliant in Marius’ arms, letting himself be held. He needed this, sometimes. Often, lately, if he was honest with himself. The past few weeks had been hard on him, emotionally draining. On some days he felt like he could only let his true feelings show around Marius because if Enjolras knew, then Combeferre would know. And Combeferre couldn’t know. He had confessed to Courfeyrac that he felt horribly guilty already, for putting their relationship on hold, for putting Courfeyrac through such emotional turmoil. Of course Courfeyrac couldn’t tell Combeferre about the nights when he just wanted to cry himself to sleep. He loved him, he didn’t want to cause him pain or more guilt.

“Courfeyrac? Combeferre just sent me a text because he can’t reach you. Is your battery dead?”

“I think so. Why? What is it?”

“I don’t know. Do you want to call him?”

“Yeah.” Courfeyrac sat up and quickly got his phone out of his bag. Yes, indeed, he had five missed calls from Combeferre and three from Enjolras, plus another few messages he didn’t pay attention to yet. “Combeferre? Hey, sorry, I had my phone on silent. What’s going on?”

He tried hard to keep his voice levelled, to not show him that he’d just been crying, to keep the worry out of it.

“Got my placement. Not good news. Can you come home, please?”

“Of course, yes, I’ll be right there! Stop to get ice cream?”

“No, just come home, please.”

“Yes, definitely.”

Courfeyrac fought successfully against his tears as he hastily pulled on his shoes again. With a quick hug to Marius and a kiss to his cheek, Courfeyrac sprinted off to the metro station. He kept Combeferre updated on his waiting time and how long it would take him to get home via text message.  About 20 minutes later, Courfeyrac unlocked the front door of the flat, already greeted by a concerned Enjolras.

“He won’t tell me,” Enjolras sighed, chewing on his bottom lip. “He locked himself into his bedroom and doesn’t want to let me in. I don’t know what to do…”

He nodded softly and squeezed Enjolras’ hand before knocking on Combeferre’s bedroom door. “Ferre? Hey, I’m home.”

Combeferre opened the door nearly immediately, pulling Courfeyrac and Enjolras both into a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shut you out, Enjolras. I just…”

“Shh, it’s okay, no need to explain yourself.” Enjolras softly kissed Combeferre’s cheek. “Do you want me with you or shall I go?”

“No, with me, please. I want you both here.” He sighed and let go off them, taking a step back. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. I knew my placement would come sooner or later. We knew what could happen. So, they told me I’ll be going to the Bulgarian-Turkish border, as that is where they need the most people.”

Courfeyrac nodded softly. “Okay. That is a bit scary, with all that’s going on. When are you leaving?”

“In 10 days. Work is informed, the organisation knows I’m coming, plane tickets are booked.” Combeferre took a deep breath. “Right now I just want us all in PJs and in my bed, please. Uhm… Enjolras, could you maybe order pizza and give us ten minutes to talk alone, please?”

“As many minutes as you need.” He kissed both their cheeks and left for his own room, shutting the door behind himself.

Combeferre turned towards Courfeyrac. “I’m sorry if I scared you or anything. I was just… I really wanted you here.”

“Hey, no worries, okay? I was really worried, yes. Shit scared, actually.” He took off his coat and threw it on the floor in some corner of Combeferre’s room before hugging him softly. “I’m here now. Ferre, I… you can always back out, you know?”

“Out of what?” Combeferre buried his nose in Courfeyrac’s curls and sighed.

“The program.” Courfeyrac shrugged his shoulders, then added in a small voice: “Us.”

“I want to quit neither. I want to help and part of me is really excited to go. I can finally help at the source, I can make sure the people get treated as quickly as possible. No infection, no bones which won’t grow together because it has been fixed by someone without medical experience. I can help, Courfeyrac, I can really really help.”

“I know. I am so proud of you. You’ll do great.”

“You can’t come visit if you’re not a volunteer… it said so in the letter. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He tightened his grip around Combeferre’s waist. “Six months, right?”

“Yes, six months with the option of an extension.”

Courfeyrac nodded against Combeferre’s chest and squeezed him once more before letting him go and softly cupping his cheek. “Combeferre, if you want to extent because it’s your calling – do it. Don’t let anything hold you back. Enjolras and I can afford the flat between the two of us.” He softly ran his thumb over Combeferre’s cheek, smiling at him.

Combeferre took a shaky breath and placed his hand over Courfeyrac’s on his cheek. “What if I were to stay?” He whispered. “I can’t keep you on hold for that long. We should… I want to set you free.”

“Oh, hey, no no no, don’t do that to yourself.” He slowly rose onto his tip-toes and kissed Combeferre’s other cheek. “I will wait an eternity for you, if I must. Gladly. If you want to stay longer, don’t let me hold you back. I’m going to wait for you, Combeferre.”

“I love you so much,” Combeferre croaked. “I can’t be so selfish.”

“Then do it for me, okay? Don’t give me up because you think it would be unfair to me. It’s not. I’m a grown ass man, I can make my own decisions. You’re my decision. End of story. If you fall out of love, fine, we can deal with that. But don’t push me away when you want to hold me close.”

“I know you’re right. I’d probably smack you over the head if you’d suggest what I’m suggesting now. God, my feelings are making a mess of me. Look what you’re doing to me, I’m crying.” He chuckled softly and pressed into Courfeyrac’s touch. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Courfeyrac smiled softly and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and his emotions a bit. “Thank you for loving me back. Thank you for being honest. We have a lot to talk about, but let’s do that tomorrow, okay? There’s just one thing I need to say now. Before you leave, I want to kiss you. I want us both to know if we fit, if there’s a spark. Okay?”

“Okay,” Combeferre nodded. He then groaned and rolled his eyes. “You wanna do it at the airport in front of all our friends, don’t you?”

Courfeyrac laughed softly. “I thought about it, yes! But no, I actually decided that it’s something that needs to happen in private. We can have a cheesy reunion though. With signs and airport kisses in front of everyone. It’s gonna be great!”

“What if I can’t stop kissing you once I’ve started?”

“Then you don’t, at least not for a little bit. I’m not going to object to that. I doubt a single kiss is going to satisfy your years of pining and my months of seemingly hopeless despair.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Courfeyrac smiled softly. “No. I would love that, but we have a very anxious best friend waiting in his room. And I have a very anxious best friend in a different flat. If we start kissing now, neither of our anxious friends will be very happy about the state we’re keeping them in. We’re both highly emotional and for once I’m going to be the level-headed person in our relationship. I’ve learned from the best after all.”

Combeferre nodded softly. He leaned his forehead against Courfeyrac’s and exhaled slowly. “Okay. Let’s save the kiss for another time. I’ll get Enjolras, you text Marius, we order pizza. We tell Enjolras?”

“We tell Enjolras,” Courfeyrac agreed.

As if they could keep anything secret from him anyway. Enjolras had a sixth sense for knowing when the two of them were telling bullshit. Given their current situation, Enjolras would look through them in an instant, demanding to be told the truth. He was a good friend, Courfeyrac loved him so much. He cared so deeply about his friends, so fiercely. Plus, Enjolras would miss Combeferre, too. He needed a night together just as much as Combeferre and Courfeyrac did.

Ten minutes later, Enjolras was squished in between his two best friends. Courfeyrac had his head on Enjolras’ chest and Combeferre’s hand in his hair. Pizza had been ordered, the first Harry Potter movie was running. Enjolras was quietly crying, bless his heart. He had taken the news that Combeferre was going to leave in less than two weeks not as well as Courfeyrac had. But Courfeyrac knew: As soon as Combeferre was gone, he couldn’t be strong anymore, not at all. Right now it was important to support both of his friends emotionally. Pizza, ice cream and Harry Potter should do the trick.

*

During the next ten days, Courfeyrac tried his best not to constantly ask Combeferre when they would kiss. He supposed the right moment would turn up eventually. Maybe in the evening, when Enjolras wasn’t home yet. Or in the morning, when Courfeyrac felt sleepy and soft – he knew it was one of Combeferre’s weaknesses. But somehow, for some inexplicable reason, the right moment hadn’t come and their time was running out. The morning of Combeferre’s flight, after a goodbye-party that had lasted until the early morning hours, Enjolras was out getting breakfast when Courfeyrac came back from his shower. Combeferre was already awake, showered, and packing his things. He looked up when Courfeyrac entered his room, throwing him a soft smile.

“Good morning.”

Courfeyrac shut the door behind himself, cursing himself that Combeferre didn’t have a key. Locking the door would’ve given the whole situation more of a dramatic flair, and Courfeyrac lived for dramatic flairs.

“I am going to kiss you right now,” Courfeyrac said. “I don’t care if you’re busy or if there’s anything else that’s more important because I’m not letting you go without kissing you and I’m not going to kiss you at the airport.”

Combeferre slowly rose from where he was knelt over his suitcase. “Please,” he nearly whimpered. “Please. I-I was too scared these past few days to take the initiative, I don’t know why. Please.”

Courfeyrac stepped towards him and grabbed a fistful of Combeferre’s jumper, pulling him down until their noses nearly touched. “I will kiss you now, okay?”

“Consent given.”

Rising up on his tip-toes to close the last few centimetres separating them, Courfeyrac finally pressed his lips to Combeferre’s. It took Combeferre a few seconds to react but just as Courfeyrac grew nervous, just as he was about to draw back, Combeferre’s left hand shot into Courfeyrac’s curls while the right cupped his cheek softly. Courfeyrac sneaked his arm around Combeferre’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. A soft moan slipped past his lips, quickly being stifled by the firm press and movement of Combefere’s lips on his. Slowly, so slowly, Combeferre pulled back a bit. Courfeyrac chased after him and opened his eyes to catch a glimpse of his friend – lover? Companion? Boyfriend? – only to find him with a blissful smile and his eyes still closed. Softly, he kissed along Combeferre’s jawline. Courfeyrac sighed and pressed a kiss to his lips again.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, widening Combeferre’s smile with his words.

In his chest, Courfeyrac’s heart thumped wildly. He couldn’t hold back the beam spreading over his face. As Combeferre’s hand still leaned against his cheek, Courfeyrac turned his head slightly and kissed his palm. His head was spinning, he felt tears prickling at his eyes. Shit. There was no way he was going to let Combeferre go now. But he had to. He had to suck up his tears, put on a brave face, smile, wave him goodbye at the airport.

“Speak for yourself,” Combeferre whispered back. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of kissing you, of running my fingers through your hair like this.” He softly tugged on his curls, causing Courfeyrac to surge forward and kiss him again.

“I don’t want to ever stop kissing you, but I think Enjolras is back with breakfast and I need to tell him that I just kissed you.” Courfeyrac beamed at him, kissing him again. “Okay, maybe not right now. Maybe one more kiss?”

Combeferre laughed softly and kissed him once more. “You know, I’m glad we did this before I left. I’m glad I got to kiss you. In a way, it makes it easier to leave because I now know what I get to come home to. It’s you, I get to come home to you, to this wonderful man. No matter if I stay for six months or a year, you’ll be here, right?”

“I’ll be here, Combeferre.” He kissed him quickly before hugging him tight. “Let’s get breakfast, alright? Enjoy two more hours with Enjolras before the rest comes and you go off to help the world.”

“I’m really excited to go. I’m just so looking forward to being useful.” Combeferre dropped a kiss onto his hair and took Courfeyrac’s hand. He laced their fingers together and gently tugged him into the kitchen were Enjolras was currently brewing coffee.

He looked up when Courfeyrac and Combeferre entered the room, smiling softly at them but not saying anything.

“Thank you for breakfast,” Combeferre smiled. “I’m glad we get to have some time together before I leave.”

“Are you excited?” Enjolras placed three mugs on the table and sat down on his chair, looking expectantly at Combeferre.

Courfeyrac knew Enjolras was burning to address the hand-holding, the ruffled hair, the smiles and possibly lips which looked thoroughly kissed. But Courfeyrac also knew Enjolras would question him as soon as Combeferre was on the plane. It had time until then.

“Yes, I am. I’ll of course keep the two of you updated as much as I can. Though I have no idea how good my phone reception will be.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Enjolras smiled softly. “Maybe they need a lawyer there, too? I’d be incredibly happy to help out where I can. Though I think they might need me here more than there. Here I can help them with asylum applications and rental agreements and everything. I’m more useful in Paris, working for our company here.”

“You are, but it’s really a shame that neither of you can come and help with me. I’ll be back soon though. A year the most and I’m sure you can survive without me.”

“Of course I can survive without you. Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you like hell. You’re my best friend after all.”

“Excuse me?” Courfeyrac pouted and nudged Enjolras softly. “What about me?”

“You’re a pining pain in the ass when Combeferre’s gone but I’ll still love you just as much.”

Combeferre snorted and quickly took a sip of his coffee before he said: “He actually will be a pining pain in the ass but I’m glad about that. It just means that I’ll be missed. I’ll be pining, too, but I can’t be a pain in the ass because I don’t know anyone.”

“That’s true. At least I can curl up with Enjolras and annoy him with my love for you.”

“You two are the worst,” Enjolras mumbled but Courfeyrac clearly saw the grin his friend was trying to hide.

Of course he as happy for them. Of course he wished for nothing more than his two best friends to finally be happy with each other – he had told Courfeyrac as much.

After breakfast, the three of them picked up Grantaire and Jehan on the way to the airport. They’d meet the others there. The entire ride, Courfeyrac was sitting in the back next to Combeferre, holding his hand. He wished he could just kiss him, just a little bit. Maybe a peck on the cheek every now and then, maybe a kiss to the palm of Combeferre’s hand. What even stopped him from doing it right there and then in the car? It’s not like they had anything to hide. He took a deep breath, softly tugged on Combeferre’s hand and, once he had his attention, leaned in to place a sweet kiss on the corner of Combeferre’s mouth. Courfeyrac felt him smile and quickly kissed him again. He didn’t really want to make out with him in the car to the airport with Grantaire right next to them – who was too engrossed in his discussion with Enjolras to notice something.

“I want to kiss you goodbye at the airport. May I?” Courfeyrac whispered.

Combeferre smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand softly. “You may. Just not in front of everyone, okay? I want it to be just for us.”

“Just for us,” Courfeyrac confirmed.

Combeferre shifted a bit and leaned against Courfeyrac, gripping his hand tighter. The simple gestured caused Courfeyrac’s stomach to drop. He knew exactly what such behaviour meant, he knew exactly how Combeferre felt right now. And it wasn’t a positive feeling. However excited they all were, however much of a help Combeferre knew he’d be – in the end he’d be off to a new country, away from his friends and he person he loved. Courfeyrac did his best to silently comfort him on the ride to the airport, running his thumb over the back of Combeferre’s hand soothingly. Maybe it helped, maybe it didn’t. It did help Courfeyrac a little, though. His emotions were a mess. He wanted to support Combeferre and his decision, of course. It just hurt so much to let him go. Every smile tugging on his lips was a sharp needle into his heart, every word of encouragement an ice-cold bath. Courfeyrac watched his friends say goodbye to Combeferre in a mix of slow-motion and trance. It didn’t seem to sink in, not really, that they were at the airport, waving off his best friend for maybe half a year, maybe longer. Joly was crying, Jehan tearing up as well. Once Enjolras had hugged Combeferre – tears threatening to spill over – Combeferre gently clasped Courfeyrac’s shoulder.

“You’ll be bringing me to the security check, right?”

“Of course.” He took Combeferre’s carry-on luggage and followed him a few meters away from their friends.

Somehow, it felt awkward. What was he supposed to say? When should he kiss him? Maybe by now Combeferre had realised that it was all a stupid idea, that he couldn’t bear to have a strange long distance… whatever it was they had. They’d never defined it. Courfeyrac didn’t even know if they were anything at all apart from good friends.

“There’s something I have to get off my chest before I leave,” Combeferre started.

Okay, that was it. Surely this was the moment Combeferre would tell him that it was all just one huge mistake. He’d break it off before it even really began and Courfeyrac couldn’t even blame him. If he had just said something the second he had realised he was in love with Combeferre! They’d be together then, probably still curled up in bed together, trading lazy morning kisses. Maybe Combeferre would play with his hair, maybe Courfeyrac would softly trace Combeferre’s ribs with the tip of his fingers. But no, he had been too much of a coward to come clean about his feelings. Now it all went to shit, just because Courfeyrac couldn’t get his shit together.

“I know I can’t force you to do anything at all,” Combeferre went on, “but I just wanted you to know that I’ll definitely be true to you, okay? No sleeping with other men. No kissing anyone either, should the opportunity arise. I’ve got my heart set on you. Since we’re not really together or anything, I would understand if you don’t act that way though. I won’t hold it against you, I just want you to be honest with me. Is that something you can agree to?”

“Oh my God.” Courfeyrac hugged Combeferre tightly, burying his face against his chest. “I want to be exclusive, please, I need to be exclusive. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Me neither. I’m so relieved, you have no idea!” Combeferre laughed softly and pulled Courfeyrac even closer. “I have to go through security now. I’ll text you as soon as I can, promise.”

Courfeyrac nodded and reluctantly let go off Combeferre. “Enjoy your stay, show them what a badass perfect doctor you are! You’ll kick ass! Go make yourself proud.”

“I promise.” He bent down slightly and kissed Courfeyrac lovingly. “I promise I’ll be true, I promise I’ll make you proud, too. I promise you a future when I come back.”

“I promise to wait for you, I promise to make you proud, too. I promise to write weekly updates about all the shenanigans we get up to, all the science experiments Joly and Grantaire conduct without your supervision. I’ll be there to supervise them.”

“Please take photos of that,” Combeferre grinned. “I love you, Courfeyrac.”

“I love you, too. It feels so good to say it.” He cupped Combeferre’s cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “When you’re back, I’ll show you all the things I can do with my lips and hands. All the pent-up feelings, all the pining – we’ll finally be able to unleash it all.”

“Looking forward to it.”

A kiss, two, three later, Combeferre grabbed his carry-on suitcase and waved his goodbye to Courfeyrac. With a heavy heart, Courfeyrac fell straight into Marius’ arms as soon as he was back where they had left their friends. Only now would he let himself cry.


	6. Epilogue

Courfeyrac pursed his lips softly as he tugged on his curls, staring at himself in the mirror. He had to look as perfect as he could, which meant that he’d already washed and styled his hair twice. He considered going over to Cosette’s and borrowing her curling iron because maybe his curls needed a bit more life to them. He wanted to look his best today. In those moments, Courfeyrac envied Enjolras and Grantaire who were usually sporting a gorgeous bun. But if he'd grow out his hair to such a length, his curls would deflate. So it was bun vs curls - and the curls always won. He simply wanted to look his best for Combeferre. First time they saw each other in person after nine months, Courfeyrac couldn't look like a total slob with less-than-perfect curls! 

The first days without Combeferre had been really strange. On the one hand, Courfeyrac had been painfully aware of his friend's absence. On the other hand, he somehow expected Combeferre to walk through the door any moment now, coming back from work tired but all smiles. More often than not, Enjolras had come home to a very needy Courfeyrac who just wanted to be held for a bit. For a while, Courfeyrac and Enjolras had toyed with the idea of renting out Combeferre's room. After Enjolras had found Courfeyrac curled up in Combeferre's bed, wearing a jumper Combeferre had left behind, the idea had quickly been abandoned. 

As suspected, phone reception wasn't the best. That didn't stop Courfeyrac from sending snapchats and messages to Combeferre, who answered whenever a wee bit of reception was available. Once a month, the volunteers working at the border were driven to a nearby town. Whenever that happened, Combeferre made sure to skype Courfeyrac. Usually, after an hour, Enjolras joined them. He wanted to see his best friend, too, after all! Courfeyrac gladly granted him the opportunity, usually hanging around for half an hour before giving the two of them time to be alone. 

If he were made out of rubber, Courfeyrac would probably be bouncing off the walls right now. Only another 132 minutes until Combeferre’s plane would touch Parisian ground again. They had to leave in an hour and a half, Enjolras and him. The others weren't coming, most of them were at work but Enjolras and Courfeyrac had taken the day off to pick up Combeferre from the airport. There was a big meet-up in the Musain in the evening though. 

Courfeyrac had been awake since 5am, seven cups of coffee already in his small body when Enjolras’ door opened and he padded into the bathroom.

“Morning…”

“My hair looks like shit and I don’t know if I want to wear mascara or not and what if Combeferre is a changed man?” Courfeyrac sighed dramatically and practically draped himself over the sink.

Enjolras groaned softly and hugged Courfeyrac. He yawned against his friend’s chest while Courfeyrac dropped a kiss onto Enjolras’ hair. Courfeyrac was grateful for the hug; it helped him relax a little bit.

“I’ll take a shower now, it’s 9am and we gotta head off soon. You’ve had breakfast?”

“No. Not really hungry, I’m too excited to eat.”

“Tell you what.” Enjolras let go off him and kissed his forehead softly. “I’m taking my shower now and you go grab us some croissants from the bakery in the meantime. We’ll cuddle on the sofa until we have to leave and you’ll listen while I tell you that Combeferre will not be a changed man, not in the ways you fear. Alright?”

“Alright.” Courfeyrac sighed and left the bathroom, but not without hugging Enjolras once more.

He quickly pulled on his shoes, grabbed his wallet and bought a few croissants from the bakery. Maybe Combeferre was hungry, he should really bring him some to the airport. After a few moments, Courfeyrac decided that eclairs and macrons were absolutely a must-have, so he bought a generous amount of those, too. All his goods carefully stored in bags, Courfeyrac made his way home and managed to brew another pot of coffee just in time. When the last drop of coffee was done, Enjolras appeared in the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower.

“Got everything?”

“And more. Some sweet treats and a great idea.”

“Will you tell me the idea or is it one of your secret ideas?”

“A secret idea,” Courfeyrac beamed at him and kissed his cheek. “C’mon, let’s get some breakfast into us and pick up Combeferre!”

Enjolras laughed softly. “Someone’s in a good mood. I’m glad! I hope you’re also convinced that you look incredible and that Combeferre will drop to his knees seeing how gorgeous you are.”

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes and laughed. “Now you’re being ridiculously overdramatic!”

“Am I? Well, I must’ve learned from the best. Living with you has clearly rubbed off on me in all the best ways. Maybe I’m just supporting you and your relationship.”

“I know you are. I’m thankful. I really am. For all you did while Combeferre was gone. Nine months was a long time. I know it was good for him to stay the extra three months they offered but it was so hard, Enjolras, it was so hard.”

“I know. But he’ll be back soon. Less than two hours. Have you thought about how you want to welcome him at the airport?”

“Yes!” Courfeyrac bounced on the balls of his feet before he sat down and took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “But I don’t know.” He sighed and deflated a bit. “I don’t know. On the one hand, I want to be the first to welcome him. On the other hand, it’ll be really awkward if we start making out and you’re standing there, waiting to hug your best friend after nine months.”

“So you want me to take the initiative and welcome him first? How about we see what he does? I’m sure he wouldn’t be too keen on making out in public anyway. You know he isn’t that big on PDA.”

“I know. I would still love a cheesy airport reunion. But, honestly? I’m just happy to have him home. Give him the welcome he deserves.”

At the look Enjolras threw him, Courfeyrac just grinned widely. “I don’t mean shag him! I do want that, eventually, but you know what I really want?”

“What’s that?” Enjolras asked, taking a bite from his croissant.

“I want us three, you and Combeferre and me, to all curl up in Combeferre’s bed. He may take a nap before the get-together tonight. I’m resting my head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat. And you know what the best thing about all of that is?”

“Please tell me.”

“The best thing is that when he wakes up from his nap, I get to kiss him. Just a small kiss. Very softly. But I do get to kiss him right after he wakes up. And that’s wonderful.”

“You’re so gone on him, aren’t you?” Enjolras smiled softly and reached over the table to squeeze Courfeyrac’s hand. “I’m happy for you. Even if I know that I’ll have to live with you two possibly fucking on every surface of this flat. My only request is to santitize afterwards.”

Courfeyrac laughed softly and squeezed back. “We will, I promise. I need to talk to Combeferre about our relationship anyway and I think once we’ve sorted ourselves out, we’ll sit down with you, too.”

“I am part of your relationship after all, in a weird way, if only because I live with you two. Thank you for including me. I know that, inevitably, I’m going to move out so you can live together, as a proper couple. I just kind of hope that day won’t come too soon.”

“Don’t worry.” He softly kissed the back of Enjolras’ hand. “We want to keep you around for a while. The next step might be to just move into one room. And then we can talk about what to do after. If you move out, if we move out, if all three of us look for new flats. But that’s a concern for in maybe two or three years.”

“I wouldn’t be sure about that,” Enjolras smiled softly. “Alright, let’s clean up here and get to the airport.”

“But I need to do something with my hair still!”

“No, Courfeyrac. Your hair looks amazing. It is incredibly fluffy and I know for a fact that Combeferre will want to sit in the back of the car next to you and smush his face into your hair. Trust me, I have listened to him talk about that for a while.”

At that, Courfeyrac perked up and blushed softly. “Really?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes, really. I listen to you talk about Combeferre’s eyes and arms as much as I listen to him talk about your hair and your lips.”

“My lips?” Courfeyrac carefully, nearly subconsciously, placed the pads of his fingers against his lips.

“Yes, your lips.” Enjolras grinned. “Enjolras, you should’ve seen him today,” he mimicked Combeferre, “his hair looked like a cloud full of rainbows and his lips were so kissable I wanted to cry.”

Courferyrac laughed softly. “He sounds like he’s just as gone as I am.”

“He is. Ready to pick up your boyfriend from the airport?”

“He’s not officially my boyfriend.”

“He will be in at least three hours. He will be tonight, when we meet the others.”

“I’m not sure I want to tell them then. It should be a celebration about Combeferre returning back to France. It’s about him, not me.”

“Talk to him about it when we’re back at the flat, okay? I’m sure you’ll work it all out.” Enjolras smiled softly and unlocked the car, gesturing for Courfeyrac to get in.

He quickly hopped into the car and buckled the seatbelt, giddy with excitement. “Off we go! Let’s get my boyfriend. I want to kiss him. Hug him, hold him, breathe in his scent, just be with him. Enjolras, go!”

Enjolras laughed fondly at Courfeyrac and squeezed his friend’s hand quickly before turning on the engine. The drive to the airport didn’t take all that long, even though it was a bit delayed by the usual Parisian traffic. Enjolras only kept the car for such trips, when it would be too inconvenient to go by train. Combeferre, Courfeyrac and him all shared the car, but it hadn’t been moved since they dropped off Combeferre at the airport nine months before. Courfeyrac could hardly contain his excitement; he was positively buzzing with it. So much, that after a few exasperated sighs, Enjolras asked him to please stop bouncing his leg. Then asked him to stop humming. Then asked him to stop drumming on the window with his fingers. Courfeyrac had the feeling that Enjolras was incredibly relieved to reach the airport after nearly 45 minutes. Humming along to the elevator music, Courfeyrac bounced on his heels, holding Enjolras’ hand tightly.

He was nervous. He was goddamn fucking nervous. Courfeyrac didn’t really believe that Combeferre would turn him down or something similar – but what if? Oh, the big question!

 “His plane lands in half an hour. I’d suggest we grab a coffee but I don’t feel good getting more caffeine into you. You’re already a bouncy ball. Can I convince you to grab a tea with me?”

“Yes and a croissant while we wait. I got some snacks for Combeferre for the ride back to Paris. He said he missed meringues so I got him lots.”

Enjolras smiled softly and kissed his friend’s cheek before taking his hand and dragging him to the small café inside the airport. While they were sipping their tea, while Enjolras talked about work and his newest idea for a pamphlet to increase awareness for the latest law on adoption, Courfeyrac kept glancing over at the board, announcing that the flight Combeferre was on was due to land in roughly 7 minutes. Courfeyrac quickly downed his tea and got up quickly.

“Courfeyrac, please. He’ll have to get his bag first. It’ll be at least another 30 minutes until he’s here. I know you’re excited and nervous but hold your horses until he’s here.”

“But he’ll be here any minute now!”

Enjolras sighed but decided to indulge his friend. Courfeyrac knew very well that Enjolras was just as excited to get Combeferre back as he himself was.

So there they were, waiting in anticipation. Enjolras gripped Courfeyrac’s hand tightly as soon as the board announced Combeferre’s flight had landed.

“Any minute now,” Enjolras whispered.

Courfeyrac chuckled softly and kissed Enjolras’ cheek. “Okay, people are starting to come out. There’s so many. Can you see him? I can’t see him. Enjolras, I’m too short!” He let out a frustrated huff and pouted, causing Enjolras to laugh lightly.

“There he is! I can see him!” Courfeyrac jumped up and down, waving at Combeferre.

The second Combeferre spotted his friends, his face lit up brightly. He enthusiastically waved back, quickly making his way through the masses. Without caution, Combeferre basically threw his suitcases onto the floor and wrapped both friends into a tight hug. He kissed Enjolras’ and Courfeyrac’s cheeks and stepped away from them, beaming from ear to ear.

“I’m so happy to see you two!”

“We’re happy to see you, too!” Courfeyrac grinned.

With a smile, Combeferre bent down a little and kissed him softly. There were about a million stereotypical fireworks going off in Courfeyrac’s mind, butterflies colliding with each other in his stomach because there were just too many of them. When Courfeyrac opened his eyes again, the small smile on Combeferre’s lips caused Courfeyrac’s heart to shiver, close to bursting with love.

“Hey,” Combeferre whispered.

“Hey,” Courfeyrac whispered back.

“I’m home.”

“Technically, you’re at the airport.”

Combeferre shook his head, placing another soft kiss against Courfeyrac’s lips before he let his hand linger on Courfeyrac’s chest.

“I’m pretty sure I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me and for reading and commenting and leaving kudos! I worked on this for so long, it's sad to see it done but I'm glad I finally managed to finish something!


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